Poetry - Year III - Number 18 - November 2018

HERE FOR THE FOODBy Tim Wenzell Shoes (Global Warming Version) A true woman evacuates with her shoesand makes certain that all of them,wrapped in garbage bags,fill the trunk so thathe will take the back seat with...

AMERICABy Ken W. Simpson File number thirty-eight America The land of the freea paradoxwhere hypocriteswithout ethicsor moral principlesembraced by hateare programmedto cheat the peopledestabilisedemocratically electednationsinstall dictatorspersecute and terrorise.

AFTER HIS TOUCHBy Leanne Talavera After His Touch That’s how they’ll get you, throughyour eyes. It’s your eyesthat will cradle flickering irises. Thatwill swim in white paranoia.It will ignore the faces in fearthey’ll meet another, and...

THE LOVE OF LATINBy Howard Sage Amidst the cost of all that encompasses the blankiverse these days, tolls to pass this way or that, lights to save pedestrians from stalled vehicles en route to dump their loads of food, oil, chairs, desks,...

THE NAMELESSBy Lisa Zaran The NamelessWho are we but immigrants too.Who are we but a lost Country.Who are we but tin blind, partially broken,desperado’s too are we not.Who are we but homelesswith our pawnshop belongings,our...

FIREHOUSE BABYBy Austen Roye 1. hang in there my springboard is a type ofsocial solitudepublicly isolated with head downin plain sight.managed two maybe threehours of sleep and here nowfar from homefoaming over ideas ofempty typewriter roomsa...

RUBY THROATBy Jessica Sabo   ruby throatsit down she saysmake yourself comfortableput the napkin in your lap / keep your hands folded / sit up straight she sayscross your ankleslift your chinact like you are interestedI...

BABY POEMBy C.H. Coleman Naughty Feel delicious? Okay!“Decadent,” say it,think: herding happinessisn’t always enjoyable. One button too far ona billowy blouse revealsenough already – two, nowan interstate billboard, augments valley viewing.Obvious, but not obnoxious.Enough already! Walkinga third time...

ODE TO MADAM CURIEBy Bray McDonald Ode to Madam Curie Whyfinds no comfortin reason. Shoutingdoesn’t help.Beggingbecomes a fierce round eggfree to ponder. What whips the creamof knowledgeis a sacrificiallamb. The Madonna of the Lilies     (William-Adolphe Bouguereau, 1899) The pure white petals...

REFLECTIONBy Louise Lever Reflection The blended-up shocking-pink skinsOf a handful of frozen cranberries from the USA mixedWith a frozen skinless banana driesOn the sides of my empty smoothie glass. The Milk looks like sea foam, only it...