GNOMON AND GLASS by Robert René Galván

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GNOMON AND GLASSby Robert René Galván  Gnomon and Glass * Time’s wing casts a shadowon the spun world; The pendulous moonbeats the shore intograins of sand; We fill the glassand watch them dropthrough the elegant waistso that we...

ILLUSION by Don Thompson

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     ILLUSIONby Don Thompson    WaningThe crescent moon flat on its backBleeds out, low in the WestWith no stars nearby—witnessesWho didn’t want to get involved.    IllusionNo wind, but sparrows like leavesScatter as if blown away,Undoing a brief illusion.The...

FLOWERS SCENES FOR THE PRRIE-DIEU by Anna Evas

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FLOWERS SCENES FOR THE PRIE-DIEUBy Anna Evas      1    Wisteria How is it, being real,you evoke the unreal?In Tuam, your aerial lavenderssuggest a soiree of elves.In Tokyo, the paintbrush of Hiroshigeturns you into a drapefor a shrine.      2     Mimosa Your...

ACROSS MY BROW by Thad Elmore

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ACROSS MY BROW by Thad Elmore Beyond the fence I keep a garden out back just beyond the fenceIf you stand on a chairyou can see it without going thereThe sun is just rightthe soil is dark...

NAILS by Jennifer Lauren Collins

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NAILSby Jennifer L. Collins  NailsYou used to paint your nails,fluttering them in the airaround us as if they were mosquitosto dart and stingtheir color along clothingor my cheek,threatening feminine touchwhile drying on makeshift wind.I’d be...

VELIMIR KHLEBNIKOV’S POETRY translated by Boris Kokotov

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VELIMIR CHLEBNIKOV POEMStranslated by Boris Kokotov I don't know whether the Earth is spinning or not... I don't know whether the Earth is spinning or not,                           It depends on whether the word fits the line.I don't know...

GHOST GUMS by Jan Napier

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GHOST GUMSby Jan Napier PINK QUARTZ PEBBLE Who knows how to speak the philosophy of stone?Each pebble dust humble but not easily formed for all that.  Born of heat lacking in pain and expectation,skin rough and lightly...

THESE ARE THE OPEN ARMS by Ralph Geeplay

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THESE ARE THE OPEN ARMSby Ralph Geeplay These Are the Open Arms You woke me upwhen I was dead,teaching the nightstars wantonly to obeythe Atlantic; then slashedmy arteries in flightto Lake Piso, humbling  its boundaries, before fusing  them...