John Hawkhead “Morning practice…”
John Hawkhead Morning practice, the harpist plucks strings of sunlight. John Hawkhead is a writer from the South West of England whose book ‘Small Shadows’ is available from Alba publishing.
View ArticleJ. Paul Dutterer “Jacques’s Box”
J. Paul Dutterer Jacques’s Box In every music box everywhere there is a little man playing a miniscule piano (the same song always, the same tinny little ditty) to the delight of the very young and the...
View ArticleJames A. Clark “While She’s Tending Bar”
James A. Clark While She’s Tending Bar Bono comes through the speakers singing about mysterious ways as she mixes her many potions with careless liquid grace, and I think she’s perfect— until I catch...
View ArticleJames A. Clark “We Hear”
James A. Clark We Hear Every day, ever-changing: baby wails, toddler screeches, dish shatters, husband shouts, wife shrieks, children whoop, teenage music, Pomp and Circumstance, party laughter,...
View ArticleJames A. Clark “Paper Fortune Teller”
James A. Clark Paper Fortune Teller If I could fold myself back on myself again and again, if I could turn the whole thing over and fold it backward, backward, back to the beginning, I’d write your...
View ArticleSteve Klepetar “Bread”
Steve Klepetar Bread My grandfather tore his bread, sloshed it around brown gravy, bent over his plate, but my grandmother buttered hers with light, demure dabs, and If I could find their graves, I’d...
View ArticleSteve Klepetar “Sunday”
Steve Klepetar Sunday Here in the garden, where nobody waits, we wrap our bodies in fog, river’s breath, and our eyes strain to see past this flesh into other lives. Steve Klepetar has taught one of...
View ArticleCary Hunter “America looks the same from both sides”
Cary Hunter America looks the same from both sides The landscape changes like a t-shirt on a pretty boy you already know isn’t into you. Cary Hunter is the unknown author of many, many poems.
View ArticleHowie Good “Accidentally Like a Martyr”
Howie Good Accidentally Like a Martyr I don’t pray and I don’t believe in ghosts, but sometimes it just happens – our eyes allow beautiful light to get in. Howie Good is on the pavement, thinking about...
View ArticleHowie Good “The Osprey”
Howie Good The Osprey Coming out of the sun, it passes with steady, languid wingbeats over the marsh, clutching in its claws a fish that must be astonished to be flying. Howie Good is on the pavement,...
View ArticleJ. R. Solonche
J. R. Solonche The Lake in the Rain The lake in the rain remembers when it was the rain and quietly cries in the depth of its sleep, which, if you carefully listen, sounds like rain on a lake. J. R....
View ArticleLarry Wright “Black Tail Deer”
Larry Wright Black Tail Deer I am running red-eyed through the wet woods, over ancient roots and rocky menaces into the endless arms of night. Larry Wright was born, raised and still lives in Sitka,...
View ArticleMarga Fripp “My worries are pink gerbera daisies”
Marga Fripp My worries are pink gerbera daisies My heart, your worries are pink gerbera daisies — large blooms, bold and long-lasting, flawless in form, seed-bearing bright eyes in the center,...
View ArticleLarry Wright “Lava”
Larry Wright Lava doesn’t know your stuff burns. Larry Wright was born, raised and still lives in Sitka, Alaska, where in public, he’s been a bad singer a worse comedian and mediocre actor.
View ArticleLarry Wright “Raven”
Larry Wright Raven the blackness of you sings. Larry Wright was born, raised and still lives in Sitka, Alaska, where in public, he’s been a bad singer a worse comedian and mediocre actor.
View ArticleJ. R. Solonche “Wild Turkeys”
J. R. Solonche Wild Turkeys Like dirty oil from an old truck, the wild turkeys leak out of the woods and across the road, black drop, by black drop, by black drop. J. R. Solonche has been publishing in...
View ArticleWes Civilz “To Change a Famous Quote”
Wes Civilz To Change a Famous Quote Sex is something so divine that it must be surrounded by a bodyguard of suffering, because otherwise we’d not stop. Wes Civilz lives and breathes on a green hill in...
View ArticlePaige Foster “Pea Shoots”
Paige Foster Pea Shoots If you moved to Maine to become a summer farmer, I’d bring a book to the markets and spend hours under the beating, humid sun, watching the fair-weather wanderers peruse your...
View ArticlePaige Foster “Lettering”
Paige Foster Lettering Perhaps it is a sort of nostalgia, this wistful feeling that blossoms like wet ink on the page every time I come across your handwriting in an old book. Fascinated by the...
View ArticleF. J. Bergmann “Mind Disaster”
F. J. Bergmann Mind Disaster I think of all those people lost inside of their America. F. J. Bergmann would prefer that the days remain long year-round without the hassle of moving to the Equator.
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