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Two Poems by Lenny Lianne

WITH ME AND THE STARS No one can tie down the stars in one place, my father said as he explained how the summer constellations were different from...

Two Poems by Ann Christine Tabaka

As Moon Beams Fade The tiger prowls at night, hunting moon beams as its prey. Wandering apparitions sail the darkness, searching for a place to rest. Landing past dawn,...

When Her Boyfriend Leaves by Steven Standage

When Her Boyfriend Leaves the dense wooden door slams shut with only a fewcentimeters of clearance from the cold tile floor,forcing a gust of frigid...

Three Poems by Suzanne Frischkorn

So Much was Possible Then— ...

Verbal Escalation by James Lane

Verbal Escalation Slowly, but surely I've been establishingresidency in your bedroom. I took out thatvacancy sign months ago. The services I'vereceived here are some of...

The Amazing Blurry Dream Place—Book 1 by Anne Dykers

It is not quite accurate to say Lola is growing old for she has always been old, teetering in and out of lifetimes. Each...

A Poem by Raymond Luczak

IN SECURITY If the contents of my heart could be spilledinto a baggie and placed inside a plastic tray,what would the TSA officer see in...

At the start of war by Tyler Vaughn Hayes

Mourning, I dreamt of endless azure

The Tree and Me by Laureen Summers

Yesterday I watched branches  Being severed from an old, majestic tree 

A Good Deal by Sunayna Pal

A Good Deal I don't like empty vases populating my tiny house but after uploading my listing of the car I came across a blue Ming vase. Not...

Must-read

One Poem by Charlotte Van Schaack

Writing On The Wall   Even with the fear of haunted place, everyone is trying to become a ghost.          As in the paid...

One Poem by Kate Gorman

FALLSTREETLIGHT SWITCH The sodium-vapor streetlightswith fresnel lenses like lidded eyeshave been replacedwith horseshoe-like arcs of LED lights.As the morning stays dark longerand evening comes on...

Three Poems by Mary Whitlow

Cloth & Sun    Chaos greets me at the door—   broken things swirl,   dust motes through worn curtains,   a breath before the next bruise.   You coil like an old cobra,   fangs...
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