Category: poetry
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in the end, who are we but little women fused and accumulated and ready to snap apart from the whole of ourselves like chocolate squares
by Amanda Pendley there are envelope poemsfistfuls of you in my handsblown away only half on purposeand half by the wind held in and let out likea child’s emission of defeat from not beingable to hold their breath any longer I stand emptybreathlesshands limp in a reflected pool of surrenderbefore the scream comesthe scurryingthe nails…
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Static
by Amanda Pendley stagnant hum of surf worn bodies/ washed up on shorelines/ bathtubs/ sewers/ what it means to be underneath/ passed over/ laid to rest in foggy water/ laid to bed in defeat/ in retreat/ in the crinkle of the television turning on/ tuning/ searching/ through databases of well kept facts/ tune out the…
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Object Permanence
by Amanda Pendley Artist: Augusto Avila Jr. it was poetic justice maybewhen two days earlier, the three of us stoodsquished and stepping on feetin front of the dull dorm bathroom mirrorfor a friend’s photography projectwe were told to act natural as wepretended to examine our skin for blackheadsand check our teeth for spinachand reach behind…
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Punting Everything We Don’t Have The Guts To Say Into The Sky
by Amanda Pendley Artist: Merri Cherry little kids blush when confronted with crushesthough it may be the purest form of loveany of us will ever haveI’m stumbling upon more and more days latelywhen I wish I could go back to thatwe always teased zach about shannonand you teased me about zach and hissoccer trained legs…
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Senryu I
by Jonathan Durie White box room paintedsisters in black veil silencedead air is for rent.& Jonathan Durie Jonathan Durie is a Scottish writer based in California. He won a national New Writers Award from the Scottish Book Trust in 2014. He was then shortlisted for the Jane Martin poetry prize in the same year. In…
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Connie Girl
by Norman Klein That’s what he called me that morning, as my eyes opened, and both of us saw the kid lying there bloody, smaller than a bird, smaller enough to flush it down, then forgive my husband when he threw me over his shoulder to get me to the hospital, where I locked myself…
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How Long Do We Not Last
by E.R. Sutcliffe The mountain dwells notOn fleeting issues of menTimes continues on&& E.R. Sutcliffe E. R. Sutcliffe is a freelance writer with a background in psychology, addiction and social work. Artist: Martins Malinovskis
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German Expressionist Silent Film Soliloquy
by Matt Schumacher You’re eligible for citizenship in nightmare country of somnambulists and nosferatus, or left amnesiac on the street of a dark, abandoned city, on the corner where a phantom carriage steals poets’ souls. Leering sorcerers lure dopplegangers from mirrors to ruin wild students. Sinister carousels whirl their evil carnival in a jagged, oblique…
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Grief Fruits by M.L. Rengots
For Cody, for me RECIPE FOR DEAD BROWNIES Buy a box of brownie mix. Set aside the ingredients. Fill the empty box with dirt. Bury the box. Combine ingredients above your brownie box grave. SONG TO LET GO Catch some wind in your hands. Sing a sad song to the wind. Release the wind when…
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Placid Waters
by Kashiana Singh I was at golden gate that dayIt stood like it always doesIn a teasing mood of steelinessUnder the setting sun, I caughtA glimpse of its crumbling underbellyScars showing through beneath the rust and dustShe stood resplendent, almost worshippingSuspended expressionless to lives that leapedAs souls guzzled downwardsCeremonially stirred through steelCleansed in free fall,…
Dream Noir 