by Merri Andrew | Sep 25, 2022 | Issue #5, Poetry
He tucks the $5 into his sockand looks up at my babysays When my son was a babyI used to sit up all nightto make sure he was breathing WHERE IS HE NOW?I am screamingin my headWHERE IS HE NOW?he is also screamingin his headmaybe With practice we canlisten past the...
by Merri Andrew | Sep 25, 2022 | Issue #5, Poetry
My plan for marriagewas couragethe way a planelands by sinkingthen with a rush of strengthflexes to kiss the tarmacas an equal a drama soon forgottenas we wait to seewhose luggage is whoselooping round the lucky horseshoemagnet pull of what will emergeand what must be...
by Joseph M. Gant | Sep 25, 2022 | Issue #5, Poetry
New Format paperback and needledisccherished media–bone dust and broken saucers Cavernous dentist cut by silvered glassancient mouth of rot;pulls the roots from memory Joseph M Gant is a New Jersey born open source software enthusiast, data hoarder, technical...
by Ella Rous | Sep 25, 2022 | Issue #5, Poetry
Seagulls prefer to nest by open water, but they’ll make doif they must. This bathroom, sinking into the foundation aslittle green plants force their way through the grout, will do.It will do, even once we’ve outgrown & left it, the shivering husksof our shadows...
by Marcella Eve | Sep 25, 2022 | Issue #5, Poetry
at dawn, a womandrags herself through cobbled alleyswailing, and then beginsover a plate of dry eggsto speak and from the doorway of a key shop, a manwith no teeth yells at a plazaof tables and chairs, and smokes so mucha rain-cloud forms over Los Angeles and the...
by Daniel Clark | Sep 25, 2022 | Issue #5, Poetry
This is how… We read the signs. We readthe gaps around the signsthat said STOP. We filled in forgiveness. We sawourselves inside the bottle. We splashedwater on our faces but the water was wineand our faces grapescrushed into bottlesin crates in lorriesin toddlers’...
