SUPERNOVA by Alethea Jimison
Supernova
I wish that I knew to tell her that her laugh is a burst of light,
like a flashing supernova.
Her smile is the warmth of home.
The curve of her femininity goes on...
DEAR MAMA by Nikita Bhardwaj
Dear Mama
You told me I was born to be loved.
That I clawed out of the womb like a wild
thing, slick with my father’s breath
and the first smell of rain.
We were alone,...
WHY by Dave Clark
Why
Why.
Who is better off at their final breath?
I cry out.
Why?
I get no answer.
There has to be an answer for this.
Surely some reason,
Some purpose.
But what answer
Would leave me feeling okay
About their demise?
What answer would satisfy?
Why.
I’m...
ANGEL OF BRIDGEPORT by Linda Barrett
Angel of Bridgeport
The County called me up
For Jury Duty
I had to report on the 27th
To make sure I got there
By 8:15 A.M.
I took a drive up there
Mother in tow.
The Map Quest’s directions
Confused me
Driving is...
DEAR CUSTOMER by Idalis Wood
Dear Customer,
I apologize for not being what you want.
I’m sorry I couldn’t be the man you wanted.
It’s not my fault I wasn’t born with a
certain appendage between my legs.
Maybe if I was, my requests...
TEN THINGS I HATE ABOUT YOU AND OTHER LIES I TELL MYSELF by Erin...
Ten Things I Hate About You And Other Lies I Tell Myself
One. You never say thank you or please, and
You hate everything that’s breathing.
I discovered it since day One, of course, and
soon...
CLOCKWORK by Anannya Uberoi
Clockwork
The clockwork's clunking cycles—
routine chirrups working with
our own, mechanical metronome
dictating our waking and falling
and drifting in staccato synchrony.
The clockwork's scissors shard
furibund flowers by the hour,
comb the seasons, change their warmth,
pendulum the...
OVERFLOW by Adam Day
OVERFLOW
Judges – spit
no polish; wigs
out of order –
clouds hanging
like wool
on barbed wire.
History rush
loosens jaws
white system
reality rewritten
in cities that are
also history.
Adam Day is the author of Left-Handed Wolf...
WINDOWSILL by Geri Gale
Windowsill
I place my boss’s head
on the windowsill
cinematic light shines
on his temples.
I have removed his tongue.
My boss no longer stands
before me no longer lords
over me no longer determines
my future no longer demeans
me no longer lies...
IN THE FLOW OF THE LIGHT by Martin Willitts Jr.
In the Flow of the Light
A warm, comforting light
fringes the window
with quiet prayers.
A year or two can pass in a second,
as noiseless as yellowjackets
sampling daises.
I welcome that silence
containing hints...