by Jide Badmus It’s a rainy morning. The earth breathes cold on its citizens. I reach for a blanket of flesh that is unavailable. The room is filled with pieces of you— strands of hair, […]
Tag: sadness
Rainfall Baptism
by Sarah Prindle The sky is grey and heavy with unshed tears. Stay still as the rain pours down, cool crystal droplets falling to earth upon our heads washing away dirt and sweat, a blessing […]
The Ruins
by Jen Mierisch I. In the nineteen-eighties, my parents’ house collapsed. Stubbornness split its beams, conflict cracked the foundation, friction wore away its floors. Walls rotted from the constant floods of bitterness and disenchantment. A […]
memories of you before you’re gone; dried petals on the windowsill crackling on the breeze tiny sparks of burning chaff glitter in your eyes light that ripples on loneliness in company by a purling brook […]
One Precious Stone
by Seth Jani No more do the animals rout in darkness. They go before us blind and ecstatic, carrying their primal secrets. We lose everything with their power. The shine of otherness is our only […]
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 […]
Haiku on Grief
by Grace Gilbert i. the mind is a room, &&&&&a child against the window listening for snow ii. drowned boy, still missing: &&&&&smooth stone in god’s deep pocket this wet, joyless thing iii. a sunken […]
Shadow as Time Swallower
by Sarah Marquez I wonder when it will be my turn to introduce my shadow to the family, my mama in her ideal world– of good men versus bad men, us versus them. Or when […]
From Being Stalingrad to Nothingness
by Brett Stout After she annexed her existence and the Crimea, confessions as oxymoron’s were written in dead languages on blank Post-It Notes left in empty carriages as the broken dams filled with neon ghetto […]
Poem by Simon Perchik
To remind you how long before white becomes invisible –you fold this dish cloth over and over as if each splash is wiped with a cry making room the way an old love song turns […]
