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Two Poems
by Eric Stiefel Meaning, Meaning It All Falls ApartYou’re brushing your teeth in the midst of oneof those morningsthat can only be described as ennui.You rinse your mouth without thinking and tryto speak the sharp dark nothingthat creeps in the cornersof the room where it forms a mosaic arranged in the mind:a tapestry of train carsand…
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Emily
By Howie Good Sailors just grabbed what they could — a Mickey Mouse teddy bear my sister had since she was little — before the ship broke apart in nightmarish purple seas, the wind wailing as if the wails might actually be expressing something, anguish or fear or fratricidal rage, while back on shore, graves vomited up the dead,…
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Gutter
by Trevor Plate plastic palm treeshades the pink wallenvelopes of blueand your biteit’scrocodile luston me like a fevermy oiled eyes wrapped around your voicethese limbs/the ceilingand the room gets more liquidand we get more liquiduntil we’re wetter than the rain. Trevor Plate Trevor Plate spent his childhood on the island of Guam. Halfway around the…
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Airplanes Move Sideways
by Trevor Plate Concrete and metaland sky breathing heavyThe mountains beyondthemselves in the distanceSun giving up tothe demon electricScent of a humanthis flight of a lifetimeTelling the storiesof heroes and villainsPrecious and potentthe palm of an instantNight starts its breakingThese hearts are all breaking out here Smelling the fish inthe lingering ozoneExhaust and needlesolfactory highwaysRemember the…
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Two Poems
by Rita Mookerjee NemesisPeople admire a sense of industry / a spirited sort of communism / how the labyrinth tenants toil away over early blooms / tufted legs weighted with sun dust / convening in their planet in service of the one true queen / everyone admires their golden down / but wasps are paper…
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Three Poems
by Darren Demare EMILY AS THE SECOND WINTERI pressed the bleakness of Ohioto my face & I breathed so deeplythat I swallowed old wounds to create new wounds& Emily, she watched all of this beneath a blanket she made,next to a fire she started. I, too often, force myselfto experience all of Ohio all of…
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If My Name Were a Verb
by Glen Armstrong My body is here again.It doesn’t want to be.I’m angryat my clothing. I feel unbalanced when I watchmovies about peoplestarting overin new towns. My body has been to Detroit.It’s best to say that dangerisn’t dangerous. I’m angrythat the sensuous yet pragmaticshape of a canegets wastedon Christmas candy. It’s best to say that…
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Three Poems
by Anne Mikusinski Notes From a Waiting Roomtwenty-seven jumbled piecesformed instinctivelywork flawlesslytogethercreating music that inviteideasto appear on a scraps offound paperI sketch you outfrom memory and wishful thinkingfilling in the blanks with unsaidwords. It Lasts Longeran image of youcaught unawarein profilebacklitin shades of indigoor melancholy bluea complementary colorto your silver hairand the tiny crossin your…
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Two Poems
by Lyn White RooksThere are just two pieces left.Two fragments of our dreams.Two castles in the air,the remnants of a gamewe playedwhere there was no winner.Like a game of chesswith an improbable ending.Just two rooks left on the board.More flying overour castles in the airleaving them behind. The Stack of StonesThe stack of flat stoneswas…
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Baba Yaga
by Caitlin Copland I dreamed of the Yaga.She looked me in the eyetold me she would consume me. I was not afraid —even when she opened the skylightand began painting with my ashes. Caitlin Copland Quietly honing her wordsmith skills, she has recently found her voice in the rich soil of the Rocky Mountains. With the…