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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— ...

Four Poems by Mary Ann Larkin

Found Poem in Christmas LetterFrom a Former Blond Bombshell Our abilities shrink daily.Dave is on his walker.I am on oxygen.We are often cranky. Goldenrod I saw my...

Two Poems by Lori Rottenberg

An Introduction I was born from the undertow of empire,tides of death that surge and recede. I was born in a tent made of papers,in countries...

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...

Two Poems by Chris Biles

Dead End Life’s routine is like a straightaway on a country roadOn and on, beyond our sight, it continuesand sometimes looking down that road makes...

Four Poems by Drew Pisarra

A Psychological Asana For today, or maybe even an hour, or nolonger than the time it takes to read this poem,put aside “profession” as another...

Two Poems by Jeremy Lawson

Firmware There are times when I seeSomething odd, likeA purple satin bra on a yellow fire hydrant on a street cornerOr an antique white bassinet...

Two Poems by Marc A. Drexler

Dangers I am sitting under the treemy great-grandparents planted,together, the day he went to war. Strangers own this house now and werenonplussed or moved by my...

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Time Is Plastic by Jay Ulfelder

TIME IS PLASTIC Time is plastic, but not like Lego—more like taffy. Toss whole seconds aside, or ..stretch.one. . . . out. Francesca and I...

Two Poems by Sid Gold

POULTICEWhen you have looked elsewherefor answers—the spider’s web,the empty hive, the rotted log,beneath the unturned stone—ask yourself what you haveneglected. Do not lamentthat what...

Violin Plays by Adele Brown

Violin Plays She holds on tight to bow and strings, yet,it is her body, curving and rounding,on inner caverns that gives musicits beginnings:  Soaked in...
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