By: Carl Papa Palmer Hooked Kristy sent an email, said click this linkfilling my screen with a YouTube videoof a fish in a fishbowl for nine secondsbefore flashing to view kites crashing. Watching, fascinated, fixated, besiegedby nine second clips of…
By: Abubakar Auwal ecdysis of green flowers finalist BKPW Contesthere— an image of motherland is tuned from the rhythmof our greened fur; a convolvulus one, taking flightto where we plant our names, flower the smiles of gods & metaphorsinto anything…
By: Craig Kirchner Pointe Standing in attitude modeon the head of a pin,time speeds up as it stills,seconds pass like decades,handshakes become relationships,a blade of grass, a lawn,the lawn framing the reflecting pool,at the Taj Mahal. Balanced between breaths,a wink…
By: Richard LeDue The poem I never wrote would have been detailed(margins overcrowded as homeless shelters,words lined up like they’re waitingto cash cheques in a digital age),but it’s okay because at least in the backseatthere’s a grocery store bouquet of…
By: James Aitchison Accept your path andsee the way.Examine your inner self,abandoning fears and barriers.Retain your objectivity,remain dispassionate.Help others withoutbecoming involved in their lives.See them as you would a painting,examine the composition,their emotional colours,and move on.Acceptance is trust.When you trust,there…
By: T.F. Jennings Infinite Blue I don’t understand any of it.The moon, the ocean, this spinning rock. You name it. We sit overlooking the coastline high up on a knollthat was made seemingly just for us. The sun hangs in…
By: Dominic Moore prop closet Pick a book off the shelfand check if it still bangs.Rattle a story to seeif it still has life in itand turn the pageif it still has light.The heart of an actorexists only in what…
By: Josephine Forch Morose those creatures of dancers’ corpses are,the swans whose ambiguity dissolves in parts of sand.Whose plain pale feathers under the moonlight shine,and ribcages unravel human,puppets on a stage bearing skirts and faces unkind,Whose eyes solidify to melancholic…
By: Daniel Colbert In the beginning, word went round:“There’s something stirring up from the ground.”The angels made a happy sound.It was good. There’s a tree with fruit that opens your eyes;Suddenly, now, there’s truth and lies.It’s gonna be some kind…
By: Benjamin Thorne Thirteen Ways of Looking at an Unwritten Poem Iblack ants scurryrandomly,ignoring my commands IIa sinking islandof white spacesubmergedin a white sea,a melting icebergof thought IIIthe poem is a pregnant pauseuncomfortably waitingto give birth IVpaper blossoms with salt-water…