By: Geoffrey Hoffman What is poetry? In what form should it be written? Ought it to be written at all, or is it nothing but escapist nonsense behind which we shy from reality? These are questions so old that it…
By: Kyle Hemmings We are glitter-puppies in a dance temple of extended happy hour truths. Some of us will die in our distressed jeans. Who is the closet lipster with too many au cell phone lives? So wasted in those buckled…
By: Kyle Hemmings At work, her father fights a losing war with paper men. Home, Zin imagines wind scorpion women without musical sense, exoskeletons in the morning, left-overs of love. Some girls are cursed with supernatural powers of hearing….
By: Kyle Hemmings Her new step-mom keeps losing herself in supermarkets, especially in the aisle that sells kitty litter or retractable dog leashes. She loves little dogs & homeless cats & admits freely that she herself might be verging on extinction….
By Richard King Perkins II He squats naked and glorious. He does not move. Intimidated, everything comes to him. Light, substance, power. The naïve, the curious, the envious. It’s true and utterly transparent. I despise his perfection. He is far more…
By: Christopher Mulrooney the humpbacked whales you shouted in my ear as we ran along the highway something about the humpbacked whales over and over again
By: Brenna Deane The dark moon, a burnt out light bulb A translucent orb of molding cheese Cool light, sour life, quiet hum, dusty surface, bitter aroma Wide eyes absorb the gentle melody Armstrong’s first step into Space The…
The river still waits for the boats that once sailed over to the other side with hopes to conquer lands beyond the distant hillocks. Centuries have gone by yet no fellow returned. Not even a descendant ever showed up. No news…
By: Linda M. Crate your eyes are the cruel garters of the sea, eroding away all sense of ego or self you see past me through me as if i am the invisible woman — you stare past my words,…
By: Alex Bernstein I’m on his shoulders. We’re at the beach. Playing in sawdust. Smiling in the ambiance of sweet nectarine sounds. Lapping on orange jungle gyms, in Batesville offices, and on spinning chairs. Sidelines at little league…