Poetry - Year V - Number 30 - November 2019

    WOODS by Joan McNerney

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    LUCK by Joan McNerney   Falling Asleep Curling into a question markeyes shutteredlips pursedhands empty. Dropping throughlong dusty shaftsdown into dank cellars.Leaving behind faded day. That last cup of sunlightpouring from fingertips.Lulled by rattling trains,sighs of motors. Bringing nothing butmemory...

    TODAY by Stella Prince

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    TODAY by Stella Prince TODAY You and I we live by day,At night you tend to fly away,Leaving me to live for tomorrow. I want more than you can give,But you say live and let live.Leaving me with...

    LISBON by John Drudge

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    The Café DownTo the Latin QuarterTo the caféBy the storeWhere you boughtThat green dressWhere we lockedOur bikesTo the street lampAnd raced the rainTo salvationWhere the tableWas oursIn our universeAway from it allWith everything nestled inWhere...

    SEARCHING by Brionna Nijah

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    SEARCHING by Brionna Nijah   Can I Be Honest And Tell YouThat I Am Broken?Not Beyond RepairBut The Cracks Run So DeepYou’ll Think I Was An Addict For PainI Ain't Got The Tools To Fix MeI...

    PANERA by James Croal Jackson

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    PANERA by James Croal Jackson  Panera I lost the important thingssweeping baguette crumbsunderneath an industrialfan– cyclicality, the broom’s sashayfrom one end of the room tothe next– sand blown from the centerof the desert, and how selfishto keep...

    WEDDING by Timothy Loveday

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    WEDDING by Timothy Loveday   Maggots she cannot tell herhusband that there aremaggots in her fanny. thatthe maggots only feed on deadflesh. that they have been growinginside of her. that they come out whenshe pees. in the...

    GRIND by Tina Dybvik

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    GRIND by Tina Dybvik 2020 cinquain Post growthClimate chorusLosing wet bulb temperedFaith; blue ocean blues-y buskingTips fate. Grind Why soProfound a breakWith fine espresso grindTo morning brew French pressed anewRoutine? About the Author: Tina Dybvik: My verses have been published in...

    FIVE POEMS by Simon Perchik

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    FIVE POEMS by Simon Perchik   *Hiding on this tiny rockits light is falling arm over armbrought down as hammer blows and mountains clinging to the sunthe way mourners will gatherand aim for your forehead –it’s not right...