The Church Bells

artist: micheal keck by Chris Graves the church bells, temple bells, dinner bells, and funeral bells all sermon the wind, river psalm the cracked clavicle and clarinet of voice never networking. the world follows the drip drip drip of stars, dreams into porous pull, and iconic phases of the clanging moon. the moon dangles its…

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A Banal Provocation But With A Flavor of Ripe Pears

Artist: IG @silenttthings by Kristina Krumova with it you can write a poem on my belly and if you don’t like it you can wipe it off with your hand with a dress a sheet or you can leave it to drip down slowly until the words lose their meaning You can leave it to…

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The Road Home

Artist: Francisco Mathews by Bryan Grafton He had been driving for what seemed like hours now. That was the problem when you owned your own business you had to do everything yourself. He had been in the undertaking business all his life having inherited it from his father. Now he was old, real old, at…

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Two Poems

Artist: Augusto Avila Jr. by Kristina Krumova   XX Century Be patient, be patient… The Tomorrow will come two-dimensional abstract almost colorless wrapped in shiny cellophane of forgotten opportunities sent anonymously From the stamp, glued askew, will look at you… The Today   XIX Century We are sitting at the table, drinking… The Yesterday is…

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Home Repairs

by Hannah MacAfee She stretched out and tried to recapture that multi-layered furnace between her legs, but it wasn’t working, it was dead. She said nothing as she lowered her extended leg back down and tried to occupy her mind with anything else besides the bag of chips that sat opened in her pantry. Eventually,…

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The girl who invited me
to live in her tent camp
so she could teach me Chechen

sat staring in the corner,
fearing that any motion
might trigger an explosion.

Grozny’s flats were levelled.
Dolls lay disembowelled on the floor.
Glass shards covered the earth.

The road’s yellow ribbon rolled
like a carpet, limning the edge
of my escape to Vladikavkaz.

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