JANUARY by Laura Foley

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JANUARYby Laura Foley    JanuaryA blizzard of cyclone-cold windwhips snow in Elysian driftsaround Stygian pines,builds fantastical walls around the house,turns familiar woods otherworldly,provides a world of reasons to stay inside,as the finches at the feedergrow more...

HONOR THIS by Amy Nocton

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Look at the Moon’s Shards by Amy Nocton We should not remember how the full moonbroke into so many piecesas she extended herself over the water. Nor should we recall lands of lemontrees and ruins more...

BEFORE THE INK WAS DRY by Kevin Keane

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BEFORE THE INK WAS DRYby Kevin Keane Before The Ink Was Dry He would take a razor blade from his desk and a make little slitOn his hand and use it as an inkwellThen signed the...

SAVE FACE by Marissa Lucatorto

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SAVE FACEby Marissa Lucatorto YouYouYou who invade my dreamsAttack my mindEnrage my spiritYouWho comes to meWhen it is darkWhen no one else is aroundWhen everything is quiet, silent, stillYouWho make me think terrible thoughtsMake me...

ROMANCE OF THE MASK by Frederick Pollack

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ROMANCE OF THE MASKBy Frederick Pollack  Kin By the late seventeenth century he isat least possible, crying “Bring outyour dead” and breaking intohouses where the distinctionis moot; where the doctorswith great beaked masks full of posieshave...

GHOST GUMS by Jan Napier

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GHOST GUMSby Jan Napier PINK QUARTZ PEBBLE Who knows how to speak the philosophy of stone?Each pebble dust humble but not easily formed for all that.  Born of heat lacking in pain and expectation,skin rough and lightly...

THINGS IN A GAP by Eduardo Escalante

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THINGS IN A GAPBy Eduardo Escalante Again Google, Mo Gawdat lines on happinessLemons or magnet for us?Rational smells with an old story:What part of my glass would I drink?Would I be a different actor?On the...

ENAMORED by Susie Gharib

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EVOLUTIONBy Eduardo Escalante  Evolution During the slow rollover of the morning,I order the garden plants.In my hands, several seeds.I hear the groaning of the earth,need to clear its throat, lacks water.Everything grows dense, gathering light.Gravity and...

HOME GROUND by Dale Cottingham

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A Little History Watching the river in flood,each exhale huffing over the one before,its red, swollen reality waking imagination. Dismembered tree limbs,water logged, sodden, submerging,re-emerging for encores of helplessness, tumbling in the roiling flow.A tire, worn and...