Poetry

CALMby Elana Wolff   Calm,not so long ago / the river ambling through the valley /easy in the aptitude of being in the blue beside the fireweedand pocket gophers stomping on the vandal grass / the...

THE WATER BUGby Luba Ostashevsky   The Water bugA large water bug lay at the entrance to the kitchen.Its tentacles pointed up.The sloped roof of its home was a boat run aground on the cold tan...

THE TWO OF USby Victor Pambuccian the two of us since our common silencehappens in timewe are one day drownedby the implacable advanceof that circular motionits vortex pushing us downtrying to mute the echoof that resonating...

A STRANGER WITHINby Ruby Nambo A Stranger Within That’s her: sitting by the green grass.She looks so beautiful,With her long black hair.Her figure isn’t perfect unlike most womenBut you can tell she is worth more than...

THE BEAUTIFUL DAYby Karen Schnurstein Invitation to the Man I LoveAfter Elizabeth Bishop’s “Invitation to Miss Marianne Moore” From that formidable historic downtown building of yours, up from within its city of dark bricks,            please come to...

ABSENT, NOT GONEby Timothy Robbins   Absent, Not GoneI don’t expect to miss you but I dotonight or rather this dark morningproofing these lines by TV light.Gone — let’s say absent, (the absence of an ah renders the...

THE WAY THROUGH THE WOODSby Abigail George Drowning while standing at the water’s edge(for the Dutch poet Joop Bersee)     Leave the light on. Let it overflow thisroom. I want joy to fill my mouth.Somebody leave...

A VOICE IN THE WILDERNESSby Daniel Miess A Voice in the Wilderness This silence in me is vast; notan abyss; empty yet not empty. A river dispenses through the ravine,carving my name in the rock. On a winding,...

THE SEASON OF THE PARASITESby Slade Woodward “Untitled” I can see the neon sandglow with every step taken.The ground pulseswith music unheard,with time unfocused. Spectacles brimming with salt.Spectacles brimmingwith salt. Vibrancy in a dance acrossthe moonlight, a shakenturn...

TOP OF THE CYCLONEby Lenny Lewis                                                    TOP OF THE CYCLONE                                              Fourteen years in the system                                             is no fun. Said Good-bye to Comstock                                             didn't look back. Rode the bus                                             to Port Authority. Walked the Deuce                                            ...