by Paul Robert Mullen the continents have become small strides i have trembled upon peaks breathed the darkness of lairs untouched witnessed the peace of dawn skimming dampness off … Continue reading Unreachable
___ Mateo Lara is queer & latinx, originally from Bakersfield, California. He received his B.A. in English at CSU Bakersfield. He is currently working on his M.F.A. in Poetry at … Continue reading Vacuous by Meteo Lara
by Mateo Lara we are not saved, trapped in the nest cradling arms, us, crawling with rage, twitching alive tucked together, neatly in rows, made into a bed. our buzzing … Continue reading Portrait of Wasps
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 … Continue reading The Church Bells
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 … Continue reading Just Not Now
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 … Continue reading Resolve
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 … Continue reading A Banal Provocation But With A Flavor of Ripe Pears
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, … Continue reading Two Poems
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.
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 … Continue reading Possessive
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.