Come, Lovers of Dark Corners by Dale Champlin

The stars know everything—how we toiledover every piece of furniture we own—the mohair sofa with its button tufts,the dining room table sweat-polished smoothas glass, your dad’s easy-glide Barcalounger.We thought the bed too tame—mundaneas white-on-rice.  That was before we did it on the lawnat four a.m., the boat dock when the tide was out, the army hammock and the diving board.We worked over the meadow, the hayloft,the … Continue reading Come, Lovers of Dark Corners by Dale Champlin

Don’t Eat the Blowfish by Charlie Robert

Tastes like chicken but like everything else it’s not.The liver is Nagasaki.The lungs Hiroshima or Jesse James andDear Old Death comes to us all butthe quiver is fantastic.Like lips full of bees.Like a bucket of glue and no one but you.Hey Toshi! It’s Number One on the Hit Parade!Who cares that The Deal is about to go down the Crapper.Or that we may have to … Continue reading Don’t Eat the Blowfish by Charlie Robert

A Day at the Mall or Gladiators’ Cocktail Hour by Frankie Laufer

These people were mostly men dressed in green corn stalks. Or was it seaweed? I’m not sure. They rode roller coaster conveyor belts higher and higher in search of food and a place to shelter. I’m afraid of heights. They temporarily adopted me and shared what appeared to be a secret code. Written in some unknown language on a piece of burlap. But like a … Continue reading A Day at the Mall or Gladiators’ Cocktail Hour by Frankie Laufer

The End by Dale Champlin

When our affair endedthe bed, the linens, the pillows witheredtaking our shrill moans with them.Even the dust on the carpet was still, so quietand threadbare—gray where vibrant plush used to be.I hated to see the wreckageand I hated to see the termination of our lust.I hated to see us go.  At the beginningthe weather was good, I remember.We watched spring birds sing their hearts outcarnal … Continue reading The End by Dale Champlin

A Globe by Dale Cottingham

My story seemed as fulsome as real time could make it.I saw storm fronts arrive bringing wind shifts on the flats.I heard rustling in dark corners that I tried to enlighten, enliven.There were conversations that I couldn’t forget, and nowthey’ve grown gargantuan, I listened, I heard.And the voice of Miley Cyrus wafted through the hall: was it a moan?Why did her loss of love matter … Continue reading A Globe by Dale Cottingham

Eyes Flash and Blood by DS Maolalai

explaining to my bossafter two weeks at emailsthat I think I’m not suitedto the job—not if I’m honestwith him and myself. rising like an eaglein front of his desk.like a falcon. a flap-upof pigeons. sky burning. words cannon-blasts. I’ve costus both money. been latevery often. hungover. uninterestedin canteen-room gossip. no—I agree—I am notwhat they’re looking for. go to hell, the flags signal,go bloody to hell.eyes … Continue reading Eyes Flash and Blood by DS Maolalai

Domestic Goddess by Antonia Alexandra Klimenko

He kicked the catout the windowCarved her goldfishup like sushiDinner wasn’t ready on time He wanted it nowAnd I do mean NOW ! Ordered her uppink as rare beef—one tender homemakersimmered in silenceSwallowed her wholeone day at a time The day he beat herbeyond definitionshe navigated commandsin her state-of-the-art kitchenin her gingham apronher cellophane smile She had binge-cleaned                  and purgedthe entire apartment–worshipping at the altarin bulimic … Continue reading Domestic Goddess by Antonia Alexandra Klimenko

Orange Sunsets by Anna S. Kapungu

Yellow tulips in Autumn Fell in love was blinded Truth was my mirror Shrink from one’s self Unveiled the vulnerability Believed love was love Brimming with radiance Pure like the rays of comfort Love with layers But love never persisted Within the lie I lived Wrecked all my days Silenced the nights Tell nights to the North Arctic winds Believed love would come home Lived … Continue reading Orange Sunsets by Anna S. Kapungu

dog says, we’re stronger in packs by Jacklyn Janeksela

go to the nearest cemetery/pluck flowers, unearth blades of grass from their roots, collect tree branches/from the graves of women/sew it all together with strands of your own hair/set it on fire under a new moon/watch the moon laugh/watch the moon headless, faceless/gouged she breeds bird egg and seed/black, she silos flight go to the nearest cemetery/collect dirt in glass jars/care for them like honey/label … Continue reading dog says, we’re stronger in packs by Jacklyn Janeksela