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    DEAR MAMA by Nikita Bhardwaj

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    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,...

    PASSING TIME by John P. Drudge

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    Passing Time In the vaguely Haunted Eventless days Of wandering aimlessly Over bridges From bank to bank Past smoky cafes And cheap hotels High on wine And careless oblivion Putting place And tradition Beyond the tangible Striking Of my tears On cobblestones As...

    SLOW MOTION by Merlin Flower

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    Slow motion Frozen in the depths of the holiday, a horrendous thought awoke, and snared. are friends the real enemies? you said you were broke as I was waiting for the ‘ever running late’ bus ruminating on the mounting debts...

    LOVE GAMES by Edith Speers

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    Love Games Start anywhere and with tongue or fingertip trace on your lover the longest possible route to your favourite place or your least favourite place Start anywhere and imagine the aging of your beloved detail by detail...

    I TOOK IT AS A SIGN TO START SINGING by Richard Grove

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    I Took it as a Sign to Start Singing Inspired by Rumi Translated by Coleman Barks Last night the full moon floated in the stillness of my cool, lake-view horizon. I took it as a sign to start...

    EARTH by Aracelly P. Campo

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    Earth It is earth with its majestic dimensions that Confronts all its creatures with the cruel indifference of Forgetfulness and the coldness that sleeps in the abyss Of death Aracelly P. Campo, a.ka “Bones” grew up in Miami Florida....

    DEAR CUSTOMER by Idalis Wood

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    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...

    WINDOWSILL by Geri Gale

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    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...

    CLOCKWORK by Anannya Uberoi

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    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...

    BREEZE by Alan Berger

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    BREEZE ...