The Dead by Maura O’Connor

artist: irune bo by Maura O’Connor one by one, they were all becoming shades… —James  Joyce I fled your deaths. They happened anyway. Me, the missing witness. Michael, I will miss you most. The roses you gave me the night you told me you hated me. The song you wrote comparing my eyes to ocean…

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Imitation Tiffany

artist: Luisa Jung by Don Thompson (Father X) The old priest must have died soon after that Sunday, his last crack at the Eucharist. What was his name? Forgotten… But I still hear his voice, already faint and far away, sounding like he had cellophane in his lungs. We followed along in our prayer books…

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Two Poems

artist: rosa picnic by Margarita Serafimova The Grave If my father is in it, the whole world is also there, headed by me – a fanfare. Along Athinas I was leading my heart by my hand. It was walking slowly as it was growing wings. ___ Margarita Serafimova was shortlisted for the Montreal International Poetry…

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The End of Whaling

artist: early worm  by D.S. Maolalai and so we grew tired of lamp-oil. whaling too cruel a sport and death too much a price. dirty yellow light like tobacco-stained apartments. too cruel. better to crack the skin of rocks and dig down. and we did and black oil oozed forth, a boon without cruelty. more…

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The Smell of Hospitals

artist: unknown by D.S. Maolalai I sit in my kitchen drinking wine, banging out letters surrounded by drowning shirts and shiny trousers. laundry day and they hang, shapeless as crashed traffic. there is something; the drip comes like footsteps in rattles on the lino. life – car-wreck surrounded with grim chance and the smell of…

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Art by Alexandre Nodopaka

  ___ Alexandre Nodopaka originated in Kiyv, Ukraine. Speaks San Franciscan, Parisian, Barcelonan, Kievan, & Muscovite i un poco de Espanol. Mumbles in English. He propounds having studied at the Ecole des Beaux Arts, Casablanca, Morocco. Presently full time author, visual artist but considers his past irrelevant as he seeks new reincarnations.  

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Photography by Fabrice Poussin

___ Fabrice Poussin teaches French and English at Shorter University. Author of novels and poetry, his work has appeared in Kestrel, Symposium, The Chimes, and many other magazines. His photography has been published in The Front Porch Review, the San Pedro River Review as well as other publications.  

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Yes Poetry Magazine

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Poetry can take time. Poetry needs silence. Taking breaks and allowing yourself to calibrate and feel and live between the words and lines makes all the difference. You are a poet even when you aren’t “writing.”

Signing Forms

artist: Seamlessoo by Catherine Zickgraf That December, home from school, I’d finish my shift at 3 a.m. My hands cracked gripping the wheel. My breath froze in my lungs I though they’d turn to stone. The houses, too, were hollow. The road, too, unlit. My job was to go home. I sat on the steps…

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