Michael Lee Johnson

Michael Lee Johnson is a freelance writer and poet, who has had over 240 poems published in over 110 journals and online publications. He is a member of Poets & Writers, Inc and Directory of American Poets & Fictions Writers: pw.org/directory. He has been published in the United States, Canada, New Zealand, Australia, Nigeria, India, and the United Kingdom. The Lost American is about one man’s journey into exile over the Vietnam War many years ago, his struggle, his survival, his road to recovery and strength manifesting itself through his prose and poems. Mr. Michael Lee Johnson lives with his best friend, Nikki, the cat, and is content to be living in a small suburb of Chicago.


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	Raindrop Baby (Original V2) by Michael Lee Johnson I’m a raindrop babysilhouetted in the night,single-ringed single personminus the 24 carat gold.A harvester of night life,star crystal,a gather of sluts in my imagination,
	Raindrop Baby (Version 2) by Michael Lee Johnson I’m a raindrop Chicago babysilhouetted in the night,single-ringed single personminus the 24 carat gold.A harvester of night life,star crystal,a gatherer of slutsin m
	Raindrop Baby (Version 1) by Michael Lee Johnson I’m a Chicago raindrop babysilhouetted in the night,single-ringed single personminus the 24 carat gold.A harvester of night life,star crystal, seated, wellproportioned,

	Rose Petals in a Dark Room by Michael Lee Johnson I walk in a mastery of the night and lightmy money changers walk behind methey are fools like clowns in a shadow of sin,they’re busy as bees as drunken lovers,Sodom and Gomorrah before the salt pill
	I Am Old Frustrated Thought by Michael Lee Johnson I am old frustrated thoughtI look into my once eagle eyesand find them dim before my dead mother,I see through clouded egg whites with dayspassing by like fog feathers.I trip over old experiences
	If You Find No Poem by Michael Lee Johnson If you findno poem onyour doorstepin the morning,no paper, no knock on your door,and your life is poorly editedbut no broken dashesor injured meterand you d
	Illinois Farmers by Michael Lee Johnson Illinois writer in the land of Lincolnnew harvest without wordsplenty of sugar pie plum, peach cobbler pie,buried in grandma’s sugarfactory sweets and low flowing river nearby-transports of
	The Lost American: "Harvest Time" (Version 4 Final) by Michael Lee Johnson A Métis Indian lady, drunk,hands blanketed over as in prayer,over a large brown fruit basketnaked of fruit, no vine, no vineyardinside−approaches the Edmonton,Alberta adoption agency.The
	The Lost American: "Charley Plays a Tune" (Version 2) by Michael Lee Johnson Crippled with arthritis and Alzheimer's,in a dark rented room,Charley playsmelancholic melodieson a dust filledharmonica hefound abandonedon a playground of sandyears ag
	The Lost American: "Harvest or the End" by Michael Lee Johnson A Métis Indian lady hands blanketed over as in pray,spirit gods inside her empty purse,hang over a large brown fruit basketnaked of fruit, no vine,approaches the Edmonton, Alberta
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