Poetry - Year IV - Number 21 - February 2019

HUMAN BEINGby William Welch Untitled “I’m not Rumpelstiltskin,” I said, joking,then realized how apt it was —that malicious imp coming nightlyto anguished girls, promising to spinstraw to gold, but for a price.  Imagine if he used...

WOULD THAT...by Margo Poirier WOULD THAT.....Would that answerscould come withthe same ease as breathingWould that peacecould come withthe same ease as falling asleep.Would that lovecould come withthe same ease as peeing. CARLTON DAYS 1Living in the...

THE PEOPLE WHO VANISHby Ryan Havely  The People Who VanishYou wear the wind around youlike a favorite shawl.  I tryto hold you against meand you go to ashes.  Youleave like a storm,tie your hairwith ribbonslike...

GERANIUMSby Noel Williams A slow approach to Turner in the corner of the gallery This hull emerges dazzlingin the blue blaze of air, breaks througha pulse of sun, emptying lightthrough a lancet of bulwark and bow. That...

ETERNAL AND INFINITEby Scott Thomas Outlar Loki’s Ammunition Sometimes we mustset the book asidefor a moment,exhale a deep breath,and exclaim,“My God, that’s what a poem is!” No whitewash on the crescendowhere it all went to hell. No handbasket...

UNHOLY MEDICINEby Mark J. Mitchell UNHOLY MEDICINE If Buddha had a coldwould the eight-spoked wheelstill start to turn? Would the diamond vehicleconvey learned saintsabove the summit of Mount Meru? Would chanting monksset ancient columnsvibrating with wordless songs? Would meditation...

THAT OLD BLACK MAGICby Gary Beck Machine Learning Before a car can drivewithout a human,one must first get behind the wheel.As the driver accelerates,stops and turns on local streets,sensors in the carrecord what he seesand how...

BUTTON COLLECTIONby Howard Winn   BUTTON COLLECTIONBringing order to our mother’s house,as she sat in her rocking chairwatching a daytime television program,my sister threw out old candy boxescontaining buttons hoardedfrom at least sixty years.They sounded like...

LOVEby Katharine Studer Love Before the word is spokenA man might walk on handsDangling mid-air without a net or wire,Concentrating to keep the weightof his legs extended straight in the center,Nudging his fingers to gain an...

BUTTON COLLECTIONby Howard Winn   BUTTON COLLECTIONBringing order to our mother’s house,as she sat in her rocking chairwatching a daytime television program,my sister threw out old candy boxescontaining buttons hoardedfrom at least sixty years.They sounded like...