Home Poetry - Year V - Number 28 - September 2019

Poetry - Year V - Number 28 - September 2019

    DETACHED by Laura Dunn

    0
    DETACHEDby Laura Dunn I.Phase, just a phase. Not to worry,You’re only insane.Dirty hippy, smoking herb,We don’t want to share your word.Just too liberal, just too free,Don’t you wish you...

    WORD by Patrick T. Reardon

    0
    WORDby Patrick T. Reardon Make In summer, the father grilled hot dogswith his white t-shirt off, skin burning. In fall, he tolled novenas.

    LAMP LIGHT by Craig Kennedy

    0
    LAMP LIGHTby Craig Kennedy Neighbors I Have Known Robbiewho never held a job but didn’t discuss it with meTommywho wanted to write a bookAdrianwho chased birds...

    WITHOUT YOU by Ann Christine Tabaka

    0
    WITHOUT YOUby Ann Christine Tabaka Without You A thousand years agoit came to be, or so itseems. It spit my heartin two, or so it felt.

    PROFIT by Dr. Nathanael O’Reilly

    0
    PROFITby Nathanael O’Reilly The Third of July On the corner of Prairie Dunesand Spyglass sixteen miniatureAmerican flags line the path to the police...

    SURVIVAL BALLAD by Michael Atkinson

    0
    SURVIVAL BALLADby Michael Atkinson  Investigations “All detectives are in love, and all detectivestories have beds.”– Guillermo Calderon,screenplay for Neruda All detective stories are clocks,...

    COULD A LOVER LOVE MY MUSE by Jan Little

    0
    COULD A LOVER LOVE MY MUSEby Jan Little Could a Lover Love My Muse? My muse mocks my left-brained worldWith its trudging logical  meetingDaily objectives on...

    IF ONLY by Brian C. Felder

    0
      IF ONLYby Brian C. Felder     Call Us A Work In ProgressLife, with all its moving parts,is a profoundly complicated business ~a ‘process’, as people are fond of saying ~most often experienced in a...

    THE BRIDE by Wally Swist

    0
      THE BRIDEby Wally Swist    Salutations: after Antonio Porchia            for Richard Shaw 1.The fields are buttercuppedand edged with ragged robin. We've entered the realmof the subtle variegations of the colors of summer. 2.Wishing you well on a mid-June...

    DOOR AJAR by Fabrice Poussin

    0
    DOOR AJARby Fabrice Poussin    Door AjarLosing direction I sighed againmade of what he imagined in a late nightlittle me at dawn in the river of torrentialpassions cooled to the icy granite rock.I plunged...