By: Matthew R Moore at the motel for the lost – if you should find yourself here there’s free admission and endless hours while tires seem to sleep in sideways heaps and bumpers corrode as thoughts unhinged cars wave with bags…
By: Matthew R Moore As the crow flies ass backward, As the bats scream in the belfry, As you beat a dead horse, You lost me. I know I don’t have a leg to stand on, The goose is cooked, so…
By: Linda M. Crate i‘m sure you’ve done this song and dance before because you were so sincere with your insincerity, and i‘m sure she has no idea that you‘ve made her the scarlet devil that i wanted to burn…
By: Linda M. Crate i‘ll be a star in someone else’s sky forever i‘ll wonder why things had to be this way, but heaven knows maybe i‘m safer to never know that answer; so i‘m not going to make myself sick…
By: Linda M. Crate you took my love for granted left me cold and bare without the golden autumn laughter, my breaths were shattered as my heart; everything felt like a zombie dream forgot what my brain was used for…
By: Linda M. Crate i love penguins and white tigers, but leave all those arctic wolves buried in their snow father’s arms they only use their fangs to wound and impale; i love polar bears and white foxes, but leave…
By: Claire Scott We hold our dead hostage Squeezing every memory Every story every feeling As though they were oranges With eternal juice Keeping faded photos Old diaries– ways to keep Them more alive than dead Keep them hovering Listening to…
By: Claire Scott The past cancels the present Closing doors and windows With clicks and slams Circling and circling In a closed space The continuous curve Of a mobius strip The past sucking possibility Eating our present minute by minute Hour…
By: Claire Scott I live inside parentheses My home since I was six At night I gently lift one Or the other and slip out Tentative, tactful Not upsetting syntax Not capsizing capital letters Or kicking commas To the foot of…
By: Claire Scott the other day wearinga heavy overcoattall rubber bootsa plaid scarf wrappinghis heavenly neckcoughing, his voice nasal fromscotch and cigaretteslooking slightly stoutlooking slightly bentstubble on his divine cheeksoccasional nose picking a bit grouchy, complaints ofstuck bowels, arthritic knees he…