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
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
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
Catch the scent, hackles rise.Thinks I don’t see. Stay low. Stay secret.Meat memory. Salivating. Meat memory, salt-slick skin.Snarling, froth and spittle.I like to crunch the bones, suck the marrow.Panting. Replete.Calcite deposits collect on canines.Rattling breath; white pain of incisors.Replete. Sink in sleep. Continue reading Hunt by Megan Cartwright
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
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
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
I recall a theory that says time stops at the surface of a Black Hole as light falls into it. I can believe it as I watch the stars disappear on the lake. The silence sits in a theory of its own. An ambiguous and amorphous appendage of hollow-eyed indifference. I know the bolted bones of the body will break down. The vessel that chills … Continue reading New Year Meditations by Bray McDonald
In Memory of Donald J. Trump Who, Biting Off More Than He Could Chew, Would Rather Choke Than Spit It Out What seemed to us sportive away, Where the sea-shelf drops from the land, Came into the shallows to play And was tangled up by the sand. It had air enough to survive, If only breath were concerned, But needed the water to thrive Which … Continue reading Beached Whale by Stuart Jay Silverman
Die Luft ist kühl und es dunkelt the room was vacant, not empty, for the chairs and carpet were there, and the dark shape of the dresser broke into the light, so there was light, and inside the light a haze, giving substance, or, at least, form, to the light, which folded everything else into it, its moody aspic flowing like glass creeping down against … Continue reading “Turning Back” by Stuart Jay Silverman
