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…Read More
artist: yecenia torres by Kristen Dunn There will be a time and place for me But I guess it is just not now The thread is unraveling And I don’t really know how Life is always moving We are dictated by the sun I remember when he met me But I didn’t know he would…Read More
artist: anna okrasinski maddox by Kristen Dunn Feeling some type of calm even though my body aches I like the way I’ve lived I do not see any mistakes people are destructive Emotions more intense than my own sometimes it gets the best of them sometimes their true colors are shown a call out to…Read More
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…Read More
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…Read More
I have no time by Rebecca Ruth Gould
to cover up and correct the unfortunate crack in the window that exposes my nude body. Sorry, construction worker, You’ll have to control your gaze. This is my home.
I will enjoy my nakedness
any way I please.
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.
Artist: Ellierex by Kathleen O’Neil That strip of cloth is mordant red. I’d wrestle it, but who wants to be alone? Such a deceptive slip of cloth laid out over velvet cream skin. My little amoret. Touches you lay over yourself say it all. It’s autonomous, a cryptex of brocade and cambric and tells me…Read More
Memories by Kathleen O’Neil
This translucent organza covers my skin like snow;
the innermost part of me is burning away. It just smolders. Oxygen, the air, it’s everywhere. The cold poison will seep down through soft delicate shoulder, under the left collarbone edge through bone and the shield of muscle.
The Burial by Ally Schwam
While I eat breakfast, a mourning dove
slams into my window,
trades her life for a crack in the glass.