Poetry - Year V - Number 32 - January 2020

OBSESSIONSby R. Bremner Too many obsessions for one life to carrywill cause a back to droop eventuallyGood karma like good coffee is often hard to findwhen soaked in the relative liquor of the mindLet it...

MEMBRANEby Alfred Fournier Membrane The cat had been missing for days. Mom was home, behind French doors.Her hospital absence stretched,     a membrane under each precise day:Teenaged sister who drove us to schoolthe chores we never failed to domeals...

Land and sea when angels fall I did not fall to call your pain, or break ones heart so soft again, I felt such love within no doubtLike heavens precious rainA magical voice I heard...

Liberty Atoms 6 Cormorant beak-walked an eight yard string,Rebuking tide.Pratfalling crock – sauce duxelles.Maisie hassled tufts-       Lost wit’s fingers.Sunset on a rubberstamp:“Everything seemed inevitable”.   Liberty Atoms 7Shellac discRumpled under needle, jilting an overture’s tingle.Parakeet erupted, groggy.Maisie...

MEDUSAby Andre DeCuir When My Father Calls When my father calls, we talk of birds,how the blue jays cannonball,their  large bodies splashingwater out of his birdbaths:old rusty pans found in dumpsnow resting on boardsin the green...

SAY ANYTHINGby Austin Adams Carrion Flower Faint fragrance of aFlower too subtle forHuman sense.It is there. What one cannot know,Call by any name:Iandipan, aruzzrula,Dogwood. There are no lessonsThat cannot be learned.All things, inarticulate, are.That is no lesson. I Will...

SLEEPY WHALEby Terry BrinkmanSonnet CCLXVIIBristles shining wirily in weak lightLady Chapel Jack Priest PeacockMotley affairs of a moss covered rolling rockLast swig of the Challis at twilightLoom of the Moon-lightPat of her destruction FlintlockThe...

TABLE FOR ONEby Alan Berger   I’m lonely  ButI’m well bredWell read Well fed                                                                                              My favorite position in bedIs laying aloneBeing off the phoneI’m lonelyBut stay out of my zoneI’m lonelyButI don’t like peopleThey accelerate my evilI’m lonelyBut I’ve...

THE FROGSby Bruce Morton Holocaust Memorial, Berlin It is a stretch to transform sorrow, ash, guilt—loss.But the stelae are concrete, not abstract starsFallen in firmament, a hard grid that is buriedLike piles for a pier where...

NORTHERN ISLETby Danielle Hanson Northern Islet All the saints here are made of stone,eternal life mocked by their crumbling.I pick up the stones and swallow them in my gullet—even the bread is made of stones.It’s only...