SOMETHING BLUE by Heather Lee Rogers
SOMETHING BLUEby Heather Lee Rogers Nuclear Fission You see our lovewas just good chemistrythose first date cocktails ofraw pheromonesand evolutionary drive,despite your egowe are not divinejust well-dressed test tubesmixing atomsand hot moleculesso when our unit splitthat...
I TRAVELED by Kai Raine
I TRAVELEDby Kai Raine
Heart
An apartment buried in booksA nose buried in pagesEyes that fill and spill.Pages smudge.Face in a pillow,Muffled screams?Sobs?Cries.
Heart caves to too much caffeine,Pressure in the chestDesperate for a bed.Responsibilities abound.Pushed to...
THE CIRCLE by Marc Carver
THE CIRCLEby Marc Carver
AMBIVALENCE
The man stands at the barhe tries to talk to everyone who comes to the barbut most ignore himI don't know how long he has been therebut I am guessing a...
POST WAR BABY by Timothy Dyson
POST WAR BABYby Timothy Dyson
POST WAR BABYI never knew my birth motheryet, she gave me more than lifeOn a small velvet turntablesix babies put out for choosingThe young post-war couplescame at appointed times
From Captain...
MIDLIFE by Timothy Robbins
MIDLIFEby Timothy Robbins
Midlife
You go to bed early. The typewriter(which stutters) is locked in the closetfor fear it will write somethingbeautiful. It does anyway, clatteringon its own in the arms of all those emptyshirts, between...
JOSIE by Sahina Jerome
JOSIEby Sahina Jerome
JosieThe days, months leading up to her death anniversaryis like being punchedin the lungs.You're gasping for breath.You're grasping for something that will ever beunreachable.The day of her death anniversary, you hear the...
WINTER by Craig Kennedy
WINTERby Craig Kennedy
Night music
The gold streetlamp sheds itsbrilliant hysteriapushing sour sunshine to inifinitedistancesuncharted by the small men in the streetunappreciated by the grapefruit moon.
Winter
Gregorian chant, burning wood,the midnight blue riverfrozen thick and bittersweet,congealed near...
THE WAR’S SON by Anwer Ghani
THE WAR'S SONby Anwer Ghani
The War ’s Son
The soldiers have returned but the capitals of my chants are still whizzing like a slim mosquito engulfing the noisy and the questions. Their joints groan like ice...
THE ARROWS by Herbert Martin
THE ARROWS
by Herbert Martin
The Arrows,ate into Saint Sebastian’s freshlike liquid acid,like somethingapplied to antiquesto preserve them,or prepare themfor a market thatwill pay millionsof dollars, or lireor Deutch Marksfor believers and non-believers alike.There is no accountingfor...
ESPERANZA by Manuel Madera
ESPERANZAby Manuel Madera
A Follower OF Desolation
There is not muchI do when I thinkOf the birchesResting in the woods.
Once in a whileThe breeze whistlesAt the breaking dawn,Whilst I am silent.
I think very littleOf the colliding...