By: Alan Berger We leave them to die It’s not their faultThey don’t have the toolsIn their head vaultsTo make a fine life In every cityThere they areHere they stayHere they comeWelcome to your paradiseWe would be rather gratefulIf you keep…
By: Mike Zone Everything is fucked Writing poetryhoney-comb moonAllan in purple dream hazein search of toilethe just didn’t have the heart to tell herhe wasn’t the manshe was searching forthe night beforeeverything fuckednationalized pizza deliveryhobo’s hosting baby knife fights ###…
By: Stephen Kingsnorth This eyrie place,is it maids’ garret or penthouse space,servant peephole surveying classor milling subjects from royal box,pink plaza market peopled underneath? A portrait gallery:summer clothes brought out for wear,sunshine fashions unwrapping scare,swaddled usually from view,hairless legs displayed…
By: Jake Puffenberger He took his life like he took his coffeeLight on the sweetenerHeavy on the creamJust enough to take away the harsh edgeBoldFreshHe made it himself, alwaysNo coffee shops or machinesSomething valuable about the processHe sipped it slowlySavored…
By: Ed Krizek Music of Life There is beauty in silence.Nature still has somethingto teach us. The birdssing along with the car enginesand motorcycles. Muffled hallwayconversations. Doors openingand closing. Dogs barking.The music of lifeproduces a concertowhile I lie peacefully, waiting….
By: Stephen Kingsnorth Kum Kum This Katra cell behind the police lineknows Yamuna’s confluence nearby,Uttar’s Sangam trinity,mythical togetherness of three,uneasy two in dim forgotten outskirt. Kum Kum with sick uncle encamp,roundel wagons ofbelievers Bible bodycircling hurricanes glowthen darker Hindu doubt….
By: Ilhem Issaoui On sanity as you age a bit of sanity as you age would do you good, they tellIt builds a house and a futureand gives some weight to your gossamery existenceI close my dooronly to wear her…
By Wayne F. Burke SPARTACUS “Panorama-vision” the big sell of themovies, back in the early 60’s, theornate theater (to my 12 year old eyes)in the neighboring townthe cushioned chairin the semi-darknessouch!hit in the head bya Juicy Fruit candythrown by a…
By Mark Kodama We were bound and broken,Surrounded by enemies.All hope seemed lost.When from the darknessA lone rider emerged,A knight in shining armor,A hero to save the people.Why can’t that be you?
By: Nancy Diamante Bonazzoli Skin-Touch of Love Ferocious night. We left him there;his inhalator gone silentas his heartbeat. We slam the car doors,surrender to grief. You turn the key.Windshield wipers echohis ghost-dance rhythms. Defroster on the fritz,our exhalations fog,dripping sheen….