By: Barbara Gail Montero General relativity a world of gently curved spacetime a seamlessly woven fabric warped by the massive objects that set our spiral galaxy in motion its articulation is legato its purview, the large, the stately, the sublime…
By: Steven Fortune POST-ROTARY LULLABYE Silly but innocuous maybe even obvious of me to tell her blue was my choice colour of cat (Those overcast days of moist sidewalks and teal sky saliva vivify the whimsy in me) It made…
By: Linda M Crate eliminating myself i know this is about you not me, but i cannot pretend it doesn’t hurt; to know i care about someone who doesn’t care about me is painful to know i’m a choice not…
By: Fabrice B. Poussin Another Season Helping the horses along with the plow, he walks, boasting tan lines of one who never bathes in the sun, the eyes in a fight to keep the salty tears at bay. It will…
By Ruth Z. Deming They were a family on Facebook. His wife, Charlene, shared all the details of their lives, including what the children were doing, the two dogs with their pink tongues panting, and if he had stopped snoring…
By William T. Hathaway Silver spoon into the powder. Chop a line on the mirror. Deep breathing through the straw. Suck it in … sock it to my septum. Dazzle me. Yes! That’s it, feel the power of the powder….
By Michael Lee Johnson Michelangelo with steel balls and a wire brush wishing he was wearing motorcycle leathers, going wild and crazy, stares cross-eyed at the Sistine Chapel ceiling- nose touching moist paint, body stretch out on a plank, bones…
By Michael Lee Johnson Rose Petals in a Dark Room I walk through this poem one step at a time. I walk in a mastery of this night and light my money changers walk behind me they’re fools like clowns…
By: Coleman Bomar I first met Hurricane at 3 a.m. on a Sunday. Someone knocked, cried through the door “this is Hurricane” then left. After rolling out of bed, I opened to a small shaking cage with a note that…
By Mark Kodama I waited for no one in particular at the Sunshine Home for Assisted Living. The little time I have left is slipping away like grains of sand in an hour glass. And yet I have all the…