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...

NE PLUS ULTRAby John Casey This That momentYour sweet smileElevated meAsked for nothingWarmed my world-worn heartValidated my existence The honest, nova-bright life of your eyesThat purest expression of a wantOnly to loveOnly meAnd I was overcome A sublime,...

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...

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...

THE LOST RIVERby Jane Varley Hummingbirds The varmint squirrel dropped a gnawed          pinecone like a grenade out of a fir tree                    and a hummingbird turnedmy ear inside out,          rapidfire thrum of tiny bones.                              Time machine of thought: Someday you will have...

WHAT SHE NEEDSby Sophie Chen SHAMEFUL GOODBYESShe gave you all she hadinterminable affectionday to night fondnessa bundle of peaceon nights you canhardly think straightthe after hourswhere even tequilacouldn't calm your angstyet youeradicated her souldisfigured her...

RED FORESTby Dmitry Blizniuk Red forest You live in me.Every morning you come to my eyesFrom inside my head. They look like French windows –Their clear cast glass extends down to your feet.You stretch yourself on...

EMILYby Luke Francis Beirne I: Emily, February 14thThe wind started:blowing and gustingacross the ground,fresh snow coveredmost of the red. Frayed strandsof a welcome matpoked through the snowat her feet. Blinds hid most of the room.Bottles and cans...

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...