PESSOAS by Arthur Powers
Seánce with Fernando Pessoa
1.
I, I, I, I… or should I say “we”we know the Anglo-Saxon mindthat desperately seeks and seeks to findthe Truth behind ambiguity.
Do we not know the black/white of your thoughts?Did we...
CHICAGO by Elsa Pair
Bloodletting
Bloodletting,but for the rage.
If I cut open my chestsurely all that will come out is the
rage, spilling down my frontlike vomit or molten lava.
If I hold it in any longerthe fever will kill me,
and...
BOBOLINKO IN A FOREST by Kenneth Pobo
WANDAWOOWOO AND MATH
Numbers feel like a desertI’ve never visited. I’m probably missingsome gorgeous night-blooming cacti.I doubt I’ll ever venture there. I havemovies, books, and music. In high schoolI entered a dark room called algebra.When...
TENEMENT BASH by John Grey
TENEMENT BASHAnother partyon another tenement third floor.He gets there late.There's people speaking Spanish.There's some speaking English.It's a neighborhood bashand it's that kind of neighborhood.The food's mostly Mexican,tacos, burritos,and the beer's Coronathough someone lugged alongsome...
ALABASTER POLISH by Terry Brinkman
Alabaster Polish
Short admonition ableSpiritual like purity abolishBeautiful veined alabaster polishDeliberate lie whit cableLady her self-setting the tableUnmistakably evidenced demolishedWoman’s softly feathered face polishedGentle a high degree of fable
Sonnet CDXXXII
Mingling error remembered by chiefShe likes...
ZERO SUM GAME by Mark Murphy
Bird Brained View of Power
for John Bolton
I have not journeyed here to steal anythingfrom your domain,least of all, your modest nest,
which, I am at pains to point outis far beyond the skill of any...
COMING OUT by Chris Arnone
Coming Out
head-first, blood-slickedhair like a tiny John Stamos.Bubbling with style but no pronouns.
Snip the umbilical, suctionand wail, count tenfingers and toes but no sex.
The womb was mycloset, sonogram spunstraw into a golden child.
No mom-we-need-to-talk...
OLD PAINT COLORS by Sheree LaPuma
Old Paint Colors
Before he died, we shared a common history.The slow unfurling of breath, a womb, twohands, a tapestry of goodbyes in sepia. Aplacenta, grey, buried under the pine-straw
of winter. So many sad things...
DOLLHOUSE by Linda Phillips
Dollhouse
I saved the dollhousefor you and you knew ityou knewcoming in the back doorbabies played cheapwe bought it off the streetrich folks' castaway
that's why we saved itnot for cheapbut for babiesyour childrenmore than onewith...