Poetry

America, all I ask (Aimée Keeble)

what, i am asking, is the scope of what i will lackstooped in a day grieving my knees grassthe yellow and pink corner stores stale in hungry lightall the bulbs dead stars howling for coins to eatwhen will i finally yield-reign like a horse king in a Walmart parking lotAmerica, my baby, you’ve grown too […]

Leg suits (lindsay hargrave)

How many Leap Years has it been since you got your leg suits on?your bones might tell you, if not you might have forgotten you were running when you fell asleep and dreamt of falling,but if not then ask your brain stem directly…but let’s be honest, you don’t know, do you? (You break the glass […]

asian supermarkets (Dina Klarisse)

supermarket tripsoriental’s not PC asian groceries frozen mung bean sprouts my kuya and i, still young stuck them to our necks held spikey jackfruitsto see who would last longest dad looking for shrimp smell of fish wafting mixing with fruity jellies years later, comfort – i head back to mckee supermarket although somehow in my […]

Boohoo you were born in a cult. (Nate Hoil)

The alien cult hacks your cellphone camera as the air conditioners keep your future corpse from spoiling. I hope you like soaking in marinated space. You are going to spin over flames on a stick. “No memory is nice here,” says my beautiful reptile to her temperamental cleaver. I’d take her for a walk but […]

Singing and Screaming and Silence (Ai Jiang)

What is the differencebetween singing and screaming,when the foreign lands we sing ofpush us out and leave usdrowning and screaming in the water? What is the differencebetween screaming and singing,when the words of our mother tonguebecome inseparable from the words of English? What is the differencebetween silence and singing,when we start to speak their language,yet, […]

Technically Trespassing (Shaemus Spencer)

You were dying for a long time,practically since you were bornbones twisted up all funny,balloon joints mostly metal by age eighteen.Wasn’t much you could do about it. People called you shitheadjunkie. I didn’t see it that way,but it wasn’t my bike you kept stealing.Sometimes you returned it, dented,kept it hidden in the shed out back. […]

Couplets for the United States in 2020 (Charlotte VanWerven)

Make a cathedral of 2020 andI’ll show up to confess  I didn’t vote in 2016. I’ve neversaid that out loud. Fuck, I’ve never said that to anyone. My penance is to forgive myself, and  that will have to be enough.Make a cathedral of 2020 and I’ll recite my lamentations, I’llgather kneecap carpet imprints at the altar. […]

gifts of grief (Tiffany Shaw-Diaz)

all colors are pastel & jellyfish float  in a violet skythe radio plays Brian Eno along with the comforting symphony of crickets the mall has always been dirt-freethe daily news is a loop of fresh lavenderbut there are no stars & moon no Kubrick or Agatha Christie in the hum of okay fine thanksyou forget that you are a flame whocan birth suns *** Tiffany […]

Wichita train song (Christopher Walters)

I want to see the wonders of life, but I’ve only seen dead armadillos.At the stop light, two girls in a white suburban sing to me.Here I am, in a duplex, I cut off all my hair.I can hear you in the garage playing a waltz on the pianoI’m on the roof watching airplanes, beneath […]

11:11 (Vic Nogay)

i need you all to dig a hole back to2003, blast some something corporatepaint your nails black andremember how it felt to feel—feelingwithout fear or shame or apprehension ormaybe feeling fear and shame and apprehension andnot giving a goddamn fuck what it meant orwho cared becausefeeling was all there was *** Vic Nogay writes to […]

The Necromancer Answers the Poet’s Plea (Godefroy Dronsart)

No ! For the last time, I cannotrevive poems, nor mend their bones,the shadows I stitch harbour nosymbols, no myths, no demonseven. It’s yours                          to cut, yours tosalvage. Bleach a femur, sand offa finger, drill holes in a line,and you might end up with a flute. *** Godefroy Dronsart is a writer, teacher and musician […]

Diamond Mines (Margo LaPierre)

My father brings me to a diamond mine by the highway where the hills grow giant looming lacy things, daisies. A house grey as cloud shudders at the back edge of an overgrown field. My father parks the car. We knew no one would come. Approach the house. Who doesn’t love slatted, weathered things? An […]

Cheater (C. Cimmone)

The only reason I don’t cheat Is because no one else can keep a secret Like I do.  *** C. Cimmone is an author, editor, and comic from Texas. She’s alive and well on Twitter at @diefunnier.  *** image: C. Cimmone

Lower Michigan (Mackenzie Moore)

First thing on your docketonce ‘ya been pricked by the needle? Go get pricked by needlesfill the tank up with inksaturate the swathsthat stood vacant and lonely—like the kolache shop that ran out of money— all those months Go break in the Roaring 20s, reduxlove the ticket scalpers and the metal scanners even if you wake up to
joints stiff, locked, and […]

The Deal With Bigfoot (Jack B. Bedell)

If the feng shui of your brain’s set up properly,Bigfoot doesn’t have to make a soundto communicate what he needs you to know. As long as you’re not jamming shitwith your phone or setting up deer camerasall over the place, he’ll lean back in the deep cushions of your mind, align himselfwith your spirit, and […]

“Maggie the Cat” (Blake L. Bell)

Spend most of the family party daydreaming: visiting dive bars down the river, throwing back bourbon, taking home a rough man. Want to be punished. Always want to be taken apart. What if you run into that dark forest? Merge with the air or sit a corpse in no man’s land. Foul-play-theories won’t rationalize a […]

Water Myth (Purgatory Story) [Benjamin Niespodziany]

after Evan Nicholls A shoebox of water weighs more than the rain. A melon of puddle. An apple of dirt. A hearse turns on its hearing aid to listen to the sea. It’s late. You can’t have the music so you eat the exit sign before the exit sign eats you. You eat the paramedics […]

What to make of it all now? (H. R. Gibs)

I’ve made myself good so many times that my very edgeshave blurred like a penciled line scrubbed too many timesWith old pink rubber. I sit in this light wet end of July andTry to visualise myself several months down the line.Weighed down by bitter lemon juice and old feudsI am 22, not world weary, but […]

Las Tardes Con Los Muertos (Elizabeth R. McClellan)

after @notaleptic he shakes his headinto the walls of his face: ‘ “los muertos no hablan”y no algun más “¿por que?” I ask,receive no answer. Tio Juan sees ghostspero él está envejeciendo; él no oye bien, es sordo.He gets fitful when they don’t speak where he can hear,so I sit with him, hold his hand, […]

Seven Lines of Gratitude: A Rejection letter to Poets Who Run After Fire (Timi Sanni)

–& because sometimes, a muse becomes a peacock or because sometimes, a muse becomes a saint who revels in the glory of confessions that when a lie uncloaks and tries to hide between the lines of your poem, they descend on you like an avalanche with a collage of wrathful nuances till the nib of […]

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