issue 3 – poetry
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New Year
by Anam Tariq We stroll out on a sunny Sundayto the nearest park,to burn the chill of January’s cold,to blow our soap bubbles,to welcome the new year.Just as the party of iridescent bubblesstarts pouring in—a spurt of a swarm of new possibilities,mixed expressions of awe and youthful mirth,a definition of exquisiteness in a child’s lexicon.The…
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Effigies for Warring Tribes
by Eric Subpar The end of my youthis a gardenerwith a sick eldest son. The bills are piling upand the future is bleak. Still the gardener shows up everydayhe trims the maplesand guides vines up latticed wallsand reddens tomatoes. but his mind is elsewhere Eric Subpar is a poet from Washington State where he lives…
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The Warmest Spot
by Tim Murphy I slowly stagger,wanderingto the kitchen,my great adventurefor the day. I return to seemy seat taken,my dog curled round,always findsthe warmest spot. Tim Murphy (he/him) is a disabled, bisexual poet from the Pacific Northwest. His writing explores chronic illness, disability justice, and the more-than-human world. Tim’s poetry appears in Louisiana Literature, Wordgathering, The Sunlight Press,Writers…
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Stardoll
by Devon Webb Here I am again, back in the pattern. Standing by the stage-right speaker at San Fran sipping a cocktail named after your band. Which is a new thing, the cocktail I mean. Not you. Not your band. Not me watching you more than I’m watching the stage. When you’re on the stage…
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Catching up to a Blackout in Atomic City (Minneapolis Radiation Oncology)
by Alex Stolis Alcoholic blackouts don’t add upto cancer but the falloutlingers for years; I don’t remember the sexor her nameor how we ended up together, it’s her place though, can hearkids watching cartoons,she gets up her naked back to meblack hair to her waistshe puts on a robe asks me if I want breakfast,I…
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all of us are searching for an open arm
by Allen Seward wanting, needing, stretching, yawning, crying, crying, making love out of thin air,making thin air out of love, bending, bending more, paying, breaking, there are so few eulogies left,there is very little time, one day, and another, creeping, crawling, crying, crying, the hands of the clock are not soft,the music is beautiful only…
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First Questions
by John Davis Father, when do we start getting smallerMother, when dowe grow out of our skin become thinnermole like a shrewSister, how do we begin to mend the starlightBrother, the world is so heavy at nightBrother, O myBrother, no lieswill the morning-grace contain spite John Davis is the author of Gigs, Guard the Dead and The Reservist. His…
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In The Car And By The Sea
by Ewen Glass I’m not supposed to acknowledge the thing that is to be acknowledged. The only thing. The right thing. And in wrong heads here, in the car and by the sea and not understanding her by being under her spell. And in this car. And by the sea. And all I want to…
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Death in Harbor Country
by Jan Wiezorek Pumpkins smashed across the floor, a site of blood—though, of course, these are vague details, notions passed mouth to mouth over coffee, words for a beachside community facing trauma on a day of pleasure—the horse-drawn hayride wagon during pumpkin season, when firecrackers spooked the bay horse: a girl killed, the wagon ramming…
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MS WORD THESAURUS
by Louis Faber birthbeginningopeningbreachalienationestrangementenmitymalicemalevolencehatredrepugnancehostilityconflictbattlecombatassaultonslaughtaggressionbrutalitysavagenessatrocitycrimeassaultstrikebeatvanquishcrushannihilatedestroymurderhomicidedeath Louis Faber is a poet and blogger. His work has appeared in Cantos, The Poet (U.K.), Alchemy Spoon, New Feathers Anthology, Dreich (Scotland), Tomorrow and Tomorrow, Erothanatos (Greece), Defenestration, Atlanta Review, Glimpse, Rattle, Cold Mountain Review, Eureka Literary Magazine, Borderlands: the Texas Poetry Review, Midnight Mind, Pearl, Midstream, European Judaism, The…