Lethal by Stan Sanvel Rubin
Maybe forever Medusa’s quick look
from under her cowgirl cut
catches you at the party
A Cat and His Man by David Serafino
Carmen's a fusty dresser, lace and pearls, normal looking, which puts her out of Nick's league, plus she's never given him any reason to like her except his first day at the office when she handed him the standard corporate welcome basket: a canned ham, a selection of chips and a bag of peanuts.
All All #11 by Darren Demaree
Every sunset is bloody. Nations
just wait for fireworks to pop off
Hands Dig into the Wood of the Chest by Mykyta Ryzhykh
Hands dig into the wood of the chest
Hands to kill the wood in the chest
Getting to the Other Side by Charlene Langfur
This is what I do when I have to move forward
even when there is no place to go.
My little wild dog and I are out in the wild grass
Dark energy by Mark Dunbar
We think that perhaps God is hiding somewhere
in the numbers, spitting out ever more
digits to Pi, that irrational lullaby
Everything I Have Scavenged in My Backyard, in Chronological Order by Sarp Sozdinler
Sunglasses grimy with dust. Pencil sharpeners from different eras.
A VHS recording of my seventh birthday.
2004 by LeeAnn Olivier
I remember how much we watched the stars
in our pre-screen silence, spotting sister sigils
The Clear Sarcophagus of Reality by Dmitry Blizniuk
Violet ladies of night dreams stroll around the rooms.
Poems by LeeAnn Olivier
Because your lungs are heavy as deadwood
and your eyelids wax and wane, words caught
in your teeth like a dark art, a snake plant
Closure by Sarp Sozdinler
Let’s imagine your ashes getting peppered
with marijuana and smoked all night long
NERF by Sarp Sozdinler
Your husband’s ghost wrestles an Iberian Ibex outside your house. He sports three bellies these days, including the two protruding from the sides.
Poems by Allison Carroll
We put a trash bag over his head.
He’s a more acceptable punching bag
when he doesn’t have a face.
Sugarplum Fairy Dust by Matthew Dexter
I lay my mosquito gnawed neck on the rusty railroad tracks and yank down my tighty-whities.
Fante’s Child by John McMahon
Ten years of living with Parkinson’s led to a stroke induced coma, brain surgery, half a year of rehabilitation and seriously impaired motor skills.
Witness by Laurel Szymkowiak
These winter days
the bedroom mirror reflects Agnes
and my face, hard, mouth tight.
STALE by Olivia Mettler
My cat stops covering her shit
at the same time
I stop brushing my teeth.