By: Kate O’Neil I’m ready; hit me with that dark water; Soft peach-skin buttresses my shoes; my palanquin lies uncreased. In the muggy distance I can almost make you out, slumping closer a staring, windlestraw horror. Approach then. I’ll throw…
By: Kate O’Neil The blue sky melts off into the short grasses, rustling green with the wind; that ocelot steps past quietly. The trees almost smell like cordite. I woke up in a tree. I threw this postcard down to a…
By: Adreyo Sen Small town shop clerks with butterfly wings on the delicate blackness pedalling their eyes seek to alight and make a home in the homely hearts muscled on ageing bike riders with mothers who had only feet on the…
By: Milt Montague Evey and Eddy we join you in mourning as you sit shiva for your dear mother I remember…. I’ve known her over 60 years a nice Jewish girl from Brooklyn raised in a modest home with traditional values…
By: Milt Montague for almost twenty years archaeologists have been unearthing a mound that once was a temple complex from ten to twelve thousand years ago the oldest man made edifice on earth predating Stonehenge in England The Great Pyramids…
Reviewed by: Thomas Sanfilip Translated from the French by Kurt Heinzelman Host Publications Most poetry written today cannot claim descent from the moral standard that underlies all great poetry, but rather the neutered outer shell of language that evolved in…
By: Linda M. Crate i am a train one day i’ll crash into monuments of myself that i won’t recognize; we are always evolving, always changing the more we resist the more inevitable it is— and though we change there’s…
By: Linda M. Crate i was the girl that was too trusting i believed everything you had to say, and i didn’t conceive the thought you were just being charming to get what you wanted; it was all a game…
By: J.L. Amos Creamy, purple-flowered porcelain. Circular. A tulled ballerina in toe shoes spins to brass polyphonics, mindless with a strawberry sneer. Bump it off the dresser with a searching elbow, rage smash it on the wall, finger push it….
By: Khemendra Kamal Kumar Oh, what queer sight my eyes to see, Two lovely doves, springing in glee, In gusty South Easterly, they grew with me, Gliding in the fair skies, far from thee. In unison, swaying heads right to…