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Two Poems by Gary Grossman

Sir Isaac Newton's First Law of MetaphorAm I an object at rest or in motion?Newton proposes "an object at rest remains at rest" but...

Two Poems by Karla Daly

vixen’s screamsplintering shriek in the dark too late for nighthawk too early for...

One Poem by Michele Evans

sirenia n. the sirens, half bird and half woman, were “dangerous” maidens, who lured nearby sailors with their enchanting voices to shipwreck on...

Two Poems by Judith Taylor

The Hope She was born when I was three, old enoughto celebrate but not to understandthe grainy black and white photosof bodies stacked like...

Entropy by Anant Dhavale

Entropy 1. Omar Khayyam taught usnot to burn our momentsmourning the deadfor they sleep peacefullyin their cold graves. strange fellow, he was, Omar Khayyamdidn't think much of...

Two Poems by Abigail Gray

Unproven HypothesisI’ve become so used to falling asleep that I could never – truly – be with you nowI would only be disappointedby your...

Broken Tooth By Ace Boggess

Broken Tooth A dream of a broken toothmeans fear of aging, change,or feeling powerless. Broken tooth would be a good namefor a rock bandin the alternative...

Two Poems by Don Krieger

In the BeginningWe in Americawake to the horror,1200 dead, 200 abducted,Israel poised to destroyas God did to Sodom.We swear: “Never forget”or: “Free Palestine”or...

Three Poems by Michael Gushue

Turning ElegyLeaving is all we have.It’s your not being here speaking.Leaving the door ajar, the tableswept—turning into something less than comfort. What did you...

Two Poems by Mark Thalman

At the State Maximum Security PrisonThere are no elevators. They can’t be secured.To get to classrooms on the third floor,everyone takes the stairs.Before...

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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