Alec B. Kowalczyk is our April Selected Poet

You can email Alec at: mirrorrim@usa.net

TRANSFER OF GUILT

Perhaps more disturbing was the fact
that these chalked sidewalk human outlines,
blurring unbearably slowly in the rain,
were no longer five doors away from my flat,
but pooled directly at the bottom of my steps,
leaving no telltale trail to mark their coming
from over there to here.

I tell you I was alone at home that night.

SINKER

When they inundated the hollow
that was to become the Alcove Reservoir,
they left an entire village standing,
ancient clapboards sinking slowly
below the rising water,
houses, barns, outbuildings, bridle paths and boardwalks
fathomed out at 130 feet below surface level.

Makes you wonder
what the ghosts of that submerged village see:
a school of fish swimming indifferently down the lane,
some undulating light-dappled fronds,
and above. . . in their heaven,
the flat-bottom of a rowboat,
a fishing line dangling down it like from a kite,
and at the end of the line,
a leaded weight.

RETROZOIC

In the first pass
dim shapes
of conifers
hung faintly
on a lifting stream
as the lawn sprinkler
balanced briefly
at zenith.

In the second pass
a lush primal
forest glade
etched more finely
lay projected
on the cyclic cascade
before its jets
went into retrograde.

In the third pass
winged reptiles
soared a volcanic sky
airborne shadows over
foraging armored beasts
plated backbones
twitching in tune
to shifting thermals.

A STRAY RAY

A stray ray
from the setting sun
slips beyond
the dislodged slats
in a shuttered eyebrow window
spanning to the far wall
of a mostly vacant attic
falling on a forgotten painting
exciting shadows
from rendered objects
where none were painted.

SCRYING OVER YOU

Darkened room. . .  
a reposed body
inside an open casket
a blackened mirror on the inside lid
one burning tapered candle at the end
 
the grieving husband alone
staring into the depths of the shadowed veil
 
the face of the deceased reflected in angled glass
gradually dissolving and replaced by a duplicate image
 
a pulsating movement below closed eyelids
eyelashes barely register a faint flutter
the eyes hesitantly begin to open
and from the parting lips
this unearthly sound. . .

Alec B. Kowalczyk is a native of South Troy, New York. He is a civil engineer by day with an interest in the mechanics of minimalist writing by night.
His work has been published in Pif Magazine, ChiZine, Red River Review, Santa Barbara Review, Versal, Yellow Mama and others,and won the first annual Dark Animus award for poetry. Snark Publishing released his chapbook Shadow and Substance.

Alec’s developing awareness of the bizarre began in kindergarten, when the story about the troll under the bridge was his first recollection of a weird tale. The novel Dracula sealed forever his love of reading, followed by Daphne Du Marier, Shirley Jackson, H.P. Lovecraft. . . all the classic gaslight authors.
His influence from movies included Abbot and Costello Meet Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde to the Universal Monsters. A lifelong admirer of the weird in film and story, Alec participated in several movies, including being chosen as an extra for The Time Machine, directed by Simon Wells.