Poetry

Clockwork The clockwork's clunking cycles— routine chirrups working with our own, mechanical metronome dictating our waking and falling and drifting in staccato synchrony. The clockwork's scissors shard furibund flowers by the hour, comb the seasons, change their warmth, pendulum the...

AshoreIn the morning the scarring world holds me down so I cannot rise.I stretch my arms above my head like elastic bands with no end.My toes reach far below until my calves ache and...

Roses bloom in darkness too. Loves rose grew from her lips to speak of loss and courage through what leaves the body but never dies She had his heart, clung to his soulAs the salty tears...

Coming Out head-first, blood-slickedhair like a tiny John Stamos.Bubbling with style but no pronouns. Snip the umbilical, suctionand wail, count tenfingers and toes but no sex. The womb was mycloset, sonogram spunstraw into a golden child. No mom-we-need-to-talk...

GATHERINGPoems by Olivia Harman Gathering Today the gathering comes after the stormand I sit tight, my teeth pressed togetherlike keys in intricate locks,while outside that stillness starts gathering, a solemn warning, asking us to clear up...

DARK LOVEby Ayanna Lopez      Dark LoveThis angel fellShe lost her lightTrudging through the gates of hellShe gave up the fightNo man or godCould bring her backUntil she looked into his heartBlack as coalHard as iceTheir...

Goulburn A muddy river flanked by gums wanders through town past rope swings hanging from high branches, rippling around snags and sandbanks, flowing home Tingalpa The bush spread to the reservoir’s edge. Water stretched out of sight round the peninsula. Wind-blown waves chopped across...

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. Emotions drift upona waft of smoke, burningmy eyes once more.Past’s subtle...

MALPENES PUXARRA CÓSMICU Por Xe M. Sánchez ¿Pescáncieslo agora, nesti tiempu de peste, d’incertidume, de llerza? Nos, que dexamos les nueses güelgues na...

A PURPLE SHADOW by Stella Prince Leaves were crisp against my boots.The crunch of sticks sounded like a baby’s rattle.The moonlight made my quiet eyes dim.Woods are purple and black.Woods are full of mischief.I listened softly...