By: Alan Berger I certainly can’t blame you For throwing me out of our band Let us face the music I had a heroin addiction as big as the land Remember when they built that tour bus Just for our…
By: Aneek Chatterjee There is no footpath here homeless & hawkers have conquered all There is no clean air around Outdated engines have driven it out Sounds of bullets are the only heartbeats one can feel Blood takes mothers’ tears…
By: Lee Felty Maude, Clear As Day Old, she feeds the birds from her bare hands in winter. There are windows open and calling in the clouds. I have seen her concoct a bush with one store-bought rose. Today, her…
By: Aruna Subramanian I stay awake and silence the sounds around awaiting your call Or a single text.. I search your timeline for any updates.. I scroll my newsfeed Looking for your likes In any of the posts.. I check…
By: Darren C. Demaree if/in #88 what if all blinkingis code& there is no dustin our eyeswe’re giventhe answers& every time we cryreality washesaway reality ### if/in #89 every seahas a rimto exceedthe floodsnever takeaway the industriesthey’re supposed toit’s always…
By: Eve Dobbins Canopy Seeks middle ground Seeks listening to all concerned Draping itself moss-like between the two My-a-canopy Is an anomaly Which shouldn’t fit yet drapes gracefully As it rolls against the grain but it does It is not…
By: Olatubosun David I wonder how it goes through its path unknown Coiling like the snake’s whirling coil around a mango tree.Ascending rapidly into the sky, Riding on the wind’s backLike triumphant king returning from war front, Rising gently, narrowly,…
By: Holly Day Tiny Metal Ghosts The little robotic vacuum cleaner moves across the floor with such purpose, drawing patterns in the dust with the precision of a spider scrawling its web. I wonder if I watched the vacuum long…
By: John Sweet bones, buried fuck yr junkie deaths yr crippled religions no god here but the god of crows no windows in the room of murdered children because what would you see? what song of false hope would you…
By: Vicki Murray Bonne Nuit Mother is dying. I go to herMore than miles separate us,years of silence and misunderstanding.I enter her room. Others leave.Her speech is unintelligible.I listen desperate to understand.In a death garble, she anxiously speaks.I answer her…