Poetry

Arthur Heifetz – A.M.

A.M. Why do you draw the sheets over your head and shrink from the day? Is it because your father taught you life was an aching tooth to be endured until they finally removed it? Or that friends’ fatal illnesses began with nothing more than a numbness in the arm or a lump in the […]

Ashley Shaw – Boning

Boning I’m just one on the assembly line Strung up on a bar stool Torso pierced by your Meat hook irises Hands glide along the Glinting metal counter “Let me buy you a drink.” Just slip that liquid past my teeth Let the grog sweeten the meat You dress my flesh, Pepper me with compliments […]

Heather M. Browne – Letter From Speedy Stevie

Letter From Speedy Stevie I’m sorry Daddy, I made you run. I tried to be good. I’m your Speedy Stevie, cuz I’m so fast and loud. I screamed real loud that night, huh? I didn’t know the coppers would come. I shouldn’ta tried to make you stop. Or go. Mama cries all night long, holding […]

AJ Urquidi – Forest

Forest The manchild moved to where boys go to bald: a forest of plaster, his language erased.                         A terrier brushed his leg,                         he longed to pet its fur.  A boy and girl threw sticks at their ball in a tree, he starved to reach up and embody their hero.                         Into his open […]

Karla Cordero – How to set an apple tree on fire

How to set an apple tree on fire The sun will tell you it is too early for destruction continue to shut the doors and windows to keep the house from coughing on your misery Basket the ripest apples and set them on your neighbor’s porch with a recipe for pie crust           Funeral his picture […]

Mark Burgh – Dead Man

Dead Man St. Mark’s Place at dawn, trash blown, summer light’s perfect clarity so good for artists, wasted here. Lower Manhattan, brick walls remain, black-painted window sills. Somehow I thought the old world hanging on here had some right to peace, even if then or now, there was no peace. From Alphabet City I walk, […]

Mark Burgh – The Spies of Warsaw

The Spies of Warsaw Cold rain stammers on lines of street bricks, worn ideas in rows, stained with tar or blood; read them at your leisure, coffee smoldering in her cup, your sweater bunched at the elbows. Eye shadow left open on the sink. Of tears there is a novel, or dictionary of smudged intentions. […]

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