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Poetry

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if your death were a mythPoetry

if your death were a myth

Stella ReadJanuary 13, 2020

it could be fashioned of iridescent plumage, gilt and crimson, a phoenix in transition, transformed, unbeaten  

vámonos a la playaPoetry

vámonos a la playa

Lawrence GeorgeJanuary 12, 2020

is this thing that we say in this Mar Vista restaurant that i open and close open and close open every night it means,…

The Minstrel SaviorPoetry

The Minstrel Savior

Wim ColemanJanuary 10, 2020

If I remember right, Jesus arrived at the trailer where we lived in Glenville during the summer when Papaw Henry poured gasoline all around…

Toe Tappin’Poetry

Toe Tappin’

Michael B. Carroll Jr.January 9, 2020

Heel-to-toe, he taps to the harmonics of reverberating bounces and swish-swooshing tempos, and to the serenades of sirens outside his window. He dances the Dig…

Believe You MePoetry

Believe You Me

Mike CasettaJanuary 8, 2020

It’s true, what you said, if I don’t love myself I can’t really love you. I kissed my reflection on the lips last night…

BoxesPoetry

Boxes

Rob BreedingJanuary 7, 2020

I. My father would’ve laughed his ass off at how overly concerned I am about treating his ashes like a delicate antique; he’d say…

Capitalism in CambodiaPoetry

Capitalism in Cambodia

Lawrence GeorgeJanuary 6, 2020

‘member seeing your little brother just outside Angkor Wat wearing your father’s face ‘fracted through a dented, busted rear view scooter mirror peeling plastic…

The red fantail is my favoritePoetry

The red fantail is my favorite

Rob BreedingJanuary 6, 2020

I sometimes think of Lazarus when I feed the seven fishes in my little pond, my sister coming back to life, asking how goldfish…

Is There Freedom in Forgetting or Being Forgotten?Poetry

Is There Freedom in Forgetting or Being Forgotten?

Andy PosnerJanuary 5, 2020

“A breathless Death is not so cold as a Death that breathes.” —Emily Dickinson I’m no Dante, lost though I may be, Nor you…

Setting PrecedentPoetry

Setting Precedent

Mike CasettaJanuary 4, 2020

The man swallowed 480 ball bearings. One sphere a minute during his last eight-hour shift. No unemployment lines for the human anchor sitting upright…

Big Orange SunPoetry

Big Orange Sun

Trish SaundersJanuary 3, 2020

Come to Italy and live in the sun, you write. Serenity is a giant orange waiting to be plucked from the gnarled tree near…

here’s why you do itPoetry

here’s why you do it

Lawrence GeorgeJanuary 3, 2020

write for the lost the fucked the insane most of us are never comfortable anywhere born into a boxer’s stance weak like fading orchids,…