When You Are On the Menu by Antonia Alexandra Klimenko

It begins with an itch  then another   and another– those screaming red eruptions  on arms   legs    and unmentionables (Isn’t life a bitch!) the tell-tale sign of corruption– bloodstains on your pillow the viscous film of wet dream on your shrinking fitted sheets   Who are they?  these creeps these mites   small flat parasites   big appetites that live in dark places   alleyways   hidden spaces who feed off you   in excess before they retire to the comfort of your bed where they enjoy easy access   Yum while you lay … Continue reading When You Are On the Menu by Antonia Alexandra Klimenko

Why I Am Not A Scientist by John Jack Jackie (Edward) Cooper

It’s what I’m for,and everything else against;  interwoven along the cosmic fence,sovereign principle in action:  what is shall always remain,although invisible.  I can see —but feeling believe I know.  Love bears the whole through a universeeveryone bleeds.  What is must remain,even though unrepeatable:  only world, only soul;only heart ever possible to acquire  or acquaint—statement of the obvious,tipped toward the point of oblivion,  which every science … Continue reading Why I Am Not A Scientist by John Jack Jackie (Edward) Cooper

Making the Bed by Dale Champlin

I fold the duvet the way my mother ironed my father’s shirts.You could tell she wanted him to love her for it. Bed is my nirvana—softand feathery as a push-up bra I fluff up the pillows—recall last night’s catastrophe. That’s why I don’t want to remember dreams. They can be disturbing.Wakefulness is the planet I count on,my mother blood. Now that my father is deadmy mother no longer irons … Continue reading Making the Bed by Dale Champlin

Best Legs in the Baptist Church by Dana Miller

this generation longs so to be famousnot knowingcelebrity loses a certain something under the flash of your own cameranot seeingI only steal because I cannot appreciate anything until it is my own Do you twig? you can have the best legs in the whole Baptist churchyou can watch them try not to sigh and lurchin your direction it’s God’s will they should look awaysomething more … Continue reading Best Legs in the Baptist Church by Dana Miller

Marmaduchess by Dana Miller

I could smell fame and greatness coming since I was the smallest child.I was never built for your tiny version of events.I smelled the potions in the dew, The spell-telling roses twining round the terebinth, teashur and tamarisk trees… All the verve the Vivacaine had lent—couldn’t half match me.And yet here I am, holding all your hours…And here I am, Ophelia fresh out of flowers… Be … Continue reading Marmaduchess by Dana Miller

Follower by Emma Jo Black

they started following you a couple weeks agoyou were eating chia seeds for breakfast and they liked itfrom then on, you took them everywhere you went in your pocketand you felt a little less alone your followers came with you to the supermarketwatched you pick out a zero plastic toothbrushthey lay beside you on your pillow as you whispered in the darkgrowing closer with every story you shared you … Continue reading Follower by Emma Jo Black

One Swollen Day by Suzanne O’Connell

I reach for him.My hand extends,touches a blank wall.Shadows streak across it like puppets striking each otherwith kitchen implements.I glimpse a spinal columnin the shallow end of the pond.I reach again, not to save, but to touch.We are two opposing waters,waves in between.I remember him as a troubadour,but I no longer hear his music. I have reached the day’s midsection,a day once swollen with possibilities,now an … Continue reading One Swollen Day by Suzanne O’Connell

Virginia Woolf by Susie Gharib

Your agony is flowingin my veins,the accumulating residueof thousands of decades,of women entrappedwithin allotted spheres. In the name of protection,you were banished awayfrom the stimulus of Londonwhich had allayedthat innermost lonelinessof the emancipated. A new type of atticengulfed your fragile frame,so every woman is made to believethat madness is the outcomeof intellectual freedom.  Continue reading Virginia Woolf by Susie Gharib

Hiding the wretch that I am by Emalisa Rose

She kisses my handand blows me anotherwhen we say goodbye for the day.We played bingo (she won)made paper flowers, said grace and had minestrone.I come twice a monthas a floor volunteer butI’m really this horrible person,getting worse with each birthday.But I wear soft spotsfor cats and opossum, all kinds of straysand old gals in nursing homes.I should probably just set up camp therein this alternative universe;It’s … Continue reading Hiding the wretch that I am by Emalisa Rose