Doug Hoekstra “Ode to the Blue Room”
Doug Hoekstra Ode to the Blue Room Waiting to enter the Blue Room to see Jack White and his band blast through tracks from his new album, pounding drums staccato keys, and thrashing guitar, set to...
View ArticleEmma McGlashen “Elegy for Your Blueberries”
Emma McGlashen Elegy for Your Blueberries I did not mean to leave them to wrinkle and wither but after you were gone I could not eat. Emma McGlashen is a nearly graduated college student, an...
View ArticleJudith Salcewicz “Dances”
Judith Salcewicz Dances When I watched the soaring, the loops, the dives, and the promise of the hawks’ mating dance, I tried to remember when our dancing stopped. Judith Salcewicz thinks words are a...
View ArticleRasma Haidri “Arktisvår”
Rasma Haidri Arktisvår Det er aldri for sent å våkne noe under snøen ligger og banker. Arctic Spring It’s never too late to awaken something under the snow hammering. Rasma Haidri is an American writer...
View ArticleJ.R. Solonche “About Those True Believers”
J.R. Solonche About Those True Believers Do not be fooled because they’re nice, for they are the ones who drug reason on the altar of faith, the ones who truly practice human sacrifice. J.R. Solonche...
View ArticleJ.R. Solonche “Law and Order”
J.R. Solonche Law and Order The best way to stop a bad poet with a pen is a good poet with a gun. J.R. Solonche has been publishing in magazines since the early 70s and is the author of six poetry...
View ArticleJ.R. Solonche “Question for Yahweh”
J.R. Solonche Question for Yahweh If, as is said, you are omnipotent, and since, as is said, omnipotence means all things are possible, why the hell are you always so old? J.R. Solonche has published...
View ArticleNancy Kay Peterson “At a Loss for Words”
Nancy Kay Peterson At a Loss for Words I can’t describe the sound a slinky makes, but I’d recognize it. Nancy Kay Peterson is 5-feet short, like her poems.
View ArticleDevon Balwit “Still Wonderful”
Devon Balwit Still Wonderful Whatever war-damage it has suffered, however smaller it has become, it is still a wonderful city. (C.P. Cavafy) Either we are or are not a great empire,...
View ArticleHasen Hull “Untitled”
Hasen Hull From sunset to sunrise, they said nothing of significance, because it was easier to love and be loved as strangers. Hasen Hull lives in London and his work has appeared in Litro, Eunoia...
View ArticleJonathan May “Untitled”
Jonathan May When we were forced from Zimbabwe I learned you can leave behind what you most love but the question is how you will deal with being ripped apart. Jonathan May, who grew up in Zimbabwe,...
View ArticleSteve Klepetar “Florida”
Steve Klepetar Florida When a man walks from shadows and his eye explodes and his stretched-out hands radiate flame, when that happens, when his face tears a hole in the sky, we find these sentences...
View ArticleRasma Haidri “Polar Night Poem”
Rasma Haidri Polar Night Poem Nothing to say is also a poem in silence murmuring responses. Rasma Haidri is an American writer living on the Norwegian Arctic seacoast.
View ArticleAndrew Morr “Love #1”
Andrew Morr Love # 1 A spare second within my rag-tag day delivers me the thought that soon, we’ll make a pretty fair family: not one without flaw, but with enough love to bear beauty. Andrew Morr is a...
View ArticleMike Swengel “Rush”
Mike Swengel Rush That rush, walking the short hallway toward long nights in her room. Mike Swengel is excited to find an opportunitPreview (opens in a new window)y to share things he’s been saving for...
View ArticleIon Corcos “Days”
Ion Corcos Days As the days lengthen, an eighty-year-old woman walks slowly down the hill, turns eighty-one. Ion Corcos is currently travelling full-time and enjoys writing about nature and life. Ion’s...
View ArticleGil Hoy “Abstinence”
Gil Hoy Abstinence Before waking sleeping giant ghosts living deep inside you, living deep inside your most faraway dreams, be sure you first know your universe to its core. Gil Hoy is a Boston poet...
View ArticleH. Edgar Hix “Late April Snow”
H. Edgar Hix Late April Snow Watching it through the window of the preemie ward: delicate, unexpected, brief. H. Edgar Hix is like blood: still in circulation, liking to be read.
View ArticleHowie Good “Woken by Worry”
Howie Good Woken by Worry There’s just enough light bleeding in through the window for me to see what isn’t there, a man in plastic sunglasses opening a black umbrella like some kind of signal for the...
View ArticleSteve Klepetar “Looking Down”
Steve Klepetar Looking Down When night blazes, when our eyes turn to lanterns, when we climb away from heat, looking down, when we watch our houses burn and everything turn to ash, we come to know how...
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