BLUES BUSKER by John Sweeder
BLUES BUSKERby John Sweeder
Blues Busker
The young mancradles his harmonicawith cupped handscaressing it with his soul,coaxing emotionfrom its compact formas poets do with pens.
Tunes jazz fromhis mouth harpthrough long fingerswith knobby knuckles,wafting tabasco tunesas spicy...
THERE WAS TIME by Dean Baltesson
THERE WAS TIMEBy Dean Baltesson
There Was Time
There was a timewhen time was in store for uswe discovered a summerand we wanted lovewanted so much for love and time to arrive.
But then we heardthere never...
JOSIE by Sahina Jerome
JOSIEby Sahina Jerome
JosieThe days, months leading up to her death anniversaryis like being punchedin the lungs.You're gasping for breath.You're grasping for something that will ever beunreachable.The day of her death anniversary, you hear the...
EXPLORER by Fabrice Poussin
EXPLORERby Fabrice Poussin
Explorer
A soul floats gently below the thin surfaceof pearly satin to find its way through a networkof highways to life animated with soft starsrings and strings a giant canvas her image.
Her senses...
SUPER-8 by Timothy B. Muren
SUPER-8by Timothy B. Muren Super-8Your grave, Phil Silver, should be here,Philip’s Fill-Up—Gas and Gro. Hilarious, bro.filled up with bones like a new Christian, like a new Big-Wheel coasting to dirt, downsteep on plastic, breaking apart against...
WINTER by Craig Kennedy
WINTERby Craig Kennedy
Night music
The gold streetlamp sheds itsbrilliant hysteriapushing sour sunshine to inifinitedistancesuncharted by the small men in the streetunappreciated by the grapefruit moon.
Winter
Gregorian chant, burning wood,the midnight blue riverfrozen thick and bittersweet,congealed near...
SUMMER by Sarah Snyder
SUMMERby Sarah Snyder
Summer
Surrounded by low bushesand small thorny plants,
I sit, still and small beside the sharp branchesunder a porch, listen for footsteps.
This is a game. It could be sardines,hide & seek, capture the flag,...
BOARDER by Daisy Bassen
BOARDERby Daisy G. Bassen
The egg is balanced on the rim of the glass bowl.It fills the space my palm is meant to hold.The energy that will become the crackingLimns the shell. The moment cracksWith...
THE CLOSED DOOR by Mukund Gnanadesikan
THE CLOSED DOORby Mukund Gnanadesikan
THE CLOSED DOOR
The closed door never opens
Unless a hand so brave
Can brave the darkness
Find the knob
And twist against
The forces of inertia
Fearful though they be
And thus the dark room
Stays inhabited
For days
Or...
MIDLIFE by Timothy Robbins
MIDLIFEby Timothy Robbins
Midlife
You go to bed early. The typewriter(which stutters) is locked in the closetfor fear it will write somethingbeautiful. It does anyway, clatteringon its own in the arms of all those emptyshirts, between...