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A New Note From Underground
by Cliff Saunders The less you can understand, the more it hurts. — Fyodor Dostoevsky, Notes from Underground & Can’t stand sickly streets full of holes. Can’t find a loop of grace in the Holy City. The children are silent, and blue with cold.The revolution is devouring their road, endless as a month…
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Getting Even, Oddly Enough
by Cliff Saunders Even white snow is full of bacteria, full of passion and a sigh. Be thankful for its sex appeal. September sings, even to spouses who need a bodyguard of lies. Even a blue wave sings beautifully but leaves out something important. Let a thousand flowers love it nonetheless. Everything must go, even…
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A White Singer In a Black Blues Club
by John Grey The big woman plays the piano. Modified blues for white fingers. She may not fit the model but still wants her story told. That’s why she bellows like there’s slaves in her ancestry. There’s not. Hollers like the whip came down. It didn’t. Her pain, her bruises, come with a history that’s…
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Jupiter and Saturn
by Leah Mueller for Russ November storm-watchingon the Pacific coast,I saw you fiercethe first time. You: afraid of webs and travel,always giving methe helm during gales. Cheap Westport motel,probably gone now.Anchors and ashtrays in the side yard,decrepit station wagonsfilled to overflowingwith fishing gear. Ice-cold wind:seventy miles per hour,both of us bundledagainst gusts. Winter uprooted trees,ripped…
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When Opposites Meet
by Angelica Liu Twilight and rains followed us here Daylight and city were left behind The ancient temple lies in its lonely solemnity Intruders, we had met the end of our world Here the opposites meet The day was meeting the night The summer was meeting the autumn The civilized was meeting the primitive The…
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Cool Johnny Robs Dock Forty-Two
By John Caulkins North storm blows strong frosty fog, From typhoon onto Bronx blocks. Crowds opt off of snowy lots From posh port to ghost town now. On boggy docks, crooks do jobs. Oblong orbs from Morocco Worthy of crowns or gold cloth. Cool Johnny plots con slowly. “Molly, go stroll, look for folks.” “Otto,…
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A Foggy Night
by Anthony Salandy There was something about that nightWhere trees grew blurry in the mistOf an arising autumn so mysticYet so seemingly clear at the same time- Because on that foggy nightThe moon could be seen far and wideAs if presiding over the danceOf clouds oh so near to the ground, And as the darkened skies…
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To the Man I Almost Killed
Heather Ball is an English Language Arts teacher in the Arkansas Delta. She enjoys writing poetry and personal essays about the minutia of life and the complexities of interpersonal relationships. She holds a Bachelor of Arts in English from The University of the Ozarks.
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Eons
by Sarmistha Gupta Chasm earthly/gourmandise on fodder Sardonic smile/blemish of the hour Forged seasons/jubilation Everlasting silk orchids/in lonesome ivory/forlorn pink Peace/sold out Lull/canned Blotched masks/pummelling the air Charades frisky/unbound Monochromes/vibratory Spellbinding monotony/enticing Men/thick icicles Banal mooring/towering hourglass & & Sarmistha Gupta Sarmistha Gupta adores experimenting with various genres of poetry.Her gamut transcends all and embraces…
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Devil’s Paramour
by Sarmistha Gupta Flung in vortex of numbness/bellowing vociferously Rickety gates unfold /dizziness Mongrel in a heap/doused flame Scathing ash/scavenger gropes Roasted potatoes/perspiring clay pot Bubbling pangs/ devil’s craving Larvae babbling/boastful in mirth Chaperoning the cur/yawning streetwalker Gay in charm galactic/achromatic night Promenading the dim alley profane/ murky haze Rips ambiguity/tolls fated scene enacted Embodies…