Poetry - Year III - Number 11 - January 2018

CLARITYBy Irene Mitchell Premonition Fallen grapes eaten beneath the vines’ enclosure.All those annoying twists and tangles. Wiser not to dwell on complexitybut feast on regenerative imagination.A drop of water on the lilypadalerts me to possibilities in the field. What...

TO THAWBy Annelise Mozzoni Kenmore Electric Dryer Room steeped in blue,her and I,folding cotton waves. Standing in a swallow of light,she pulls sheets outlike taffyfrom dryer teeth. She strokes my cheek,with toasted thread,wanting me to catch the sheets’...

(S)LAUGHTERBy Henry 7. Reneau, Jr. (S)laughter Silent as something dark to sparkle from.  The slight degreeswhere the truth goes missing.  When we exit with or without intentionone ruthless traditionof social ruination for another.  The antidote'sunmentioned nod to...

PURGEBy Matt Barker Purge Recently, I have been guiltyof leavingthe paper blank a writer is onlyas goodas the ink                    that makes itonto the paper I am scared I might have                                                lost it….. Deposit the day is drowningunable to endurethe unflinching trickle of time writers never...

MY FAVORITE NIECEBy Patrick Mahoney THE BASEMENT OR THE ATTIC The line is long and never-endingAs it winds throughout the skyAcross the clouds that hide the sunAnd stars that never shineThe melting pot of human formsBlend...

SELF TALKBy Emily Butler  Self Talk Looks like somebody forgot to take their Dylar this morning. Did you wake up on the wrong side of the tracks? Got a bad case of the un-days? The end times? Don’t you...

WHEN YOU WERE BORNBy Colin Dodds     Cardiopolis Floating through the worlddispensing permissionunknowinglyCranes raise houses, office boxesbivouacs for a war not yet agreed uponBuildings like the stock exchangeblossom in the snowAt midday in midtowntowers pose for their...

MY GRETELby John O'Connor  My Gretel My sister never called me Hanselbut she knew I would lead her to trouble.The hollyhocks looked at us mischievously from the frost wall garden and we stole outin the twilight to...

LATE AT NIGHTBy Daniel Senser  Late at Night The clock is drunk and I’m too soberTo sit and listen to it unwind.Each tick and tock of its time pours overLike a wino spilling over the sides.The...

ON VIEWING THE CORPSE OF MY MOTHER-IN-LAW By Nolo Segundo How could this –thing, have been her?Lying shriveled and small on the bedAs those who loved (and feared) herGathered in the bereft hospital roomTo let their...