by CL Bledsoe I’ve died here before. I’ve died here and kept stumbling toward that place where everyone is safe. I’ve seen it on tee-shirts. I hear helicopters, but they aren’t for me. You were the only way I could rise. Don’t leave me with the moon for my only friend. It’s cold and they
by Tom Barlow How would you feel if it were your head reshaped as a butternut squash, your nose grafted onto your forehead, eyes beady and wandering like pinballs, and all dressed up in the skin of the drowned? Was that tenderness or disrespect that guided his brush to rip into those faces and leave
by John Dorroh Last night you dreamed about me cleaning out the basement, dispersing heart dust into the atmosphere, aggravating my asthma, detritus settling in my morning coffee cup. You said I shook it off and cooked chicken wings in the oven with three different sauces. My next-door neighbor with the 8-inch cock stole my
by Cameron Morse Thunder creaks in the crawlspace. The house speaks to me nights I have trouble sleeping, its tongue pierced by nails. Lightning haunts my window, lightning without rain. If only I could sleep and be healed, sleep without dreams. Breathe without dread. But I am on my hands and my knees always in
by Joan Mazza The scent of a summer rain on hot asphalt takes me back to elementary school in Brooklyn, the short walk to the corner to PS 98 under a canopy of young maples. Odors of garlic and lemon on broiling chicken, bleach, and silver polish resurrect my mother, dead more than thirty years,
by Karen Neuberg Without malice, I’ve used my taxidermy skills to preserve ex lovers, keeping them intact, just as when we parted. Unlike me, they never age. Never go on, though surely they’ve gone on in their own lives. Little do they know I line them along light-filled windowsills beside the medicinal herbs. Sometimes I
by Victoria Twomey some things in life, like jazz and oysters, are best when eaten raw, while smiles and strawberries, will go with anything. some things in life, like hope and croissants, should always be kept warm, while sex and sauté pans, should really be preheated. some things in life, like joy and chocolate, delight
by Richard L. Matta A shot for me, a shot for you to feed your shooting flame. And here, your chance, crosscut shredder ribbons from these empties. The questions I never asked and the ones you never answered. They told me the ashes in urns are human but maybe not just yours. Scrapings off the
by Lenny DellaRocca Bad Apothecary. Gin Radish. The Amazing Space Ship. The Savior and His Painted Automatic Machine. Pete, Lyla & Grim. Syntax Dream. Canary Weather. Cult of Red. Organic Buffoon. Rusty Fred. Her Fine Rabbit. The Blame. The Stunning Goats. Bop Rain and Tin. Violet Anus. Sometimes the Patrol Goes Far Away Like a
by Joanne Grumet i. We courted in a world that is no more: the Gem Spa where we went for chocolate egg creams; Ratner’s Dairy Restaurant where they served us onion rolls for bread; the Second Avenue Deli No more readings by the Beats, Ginsburg gone, his howling; no more Fugs protesting the war in