Night Sweat
By Marc Swan
Three in the morning,
AC howling like a banshee dancing
on a wire. I shut it down
with a punch of the button.
Cardboard Box Heart
By M. Stone
Dear stained glass Jesus:
they tucked me between pews
so I could imagine my heart
as a cardboard box, flaps open
to entice you.
New Day
By Barbara Alsop
The soft paw strokes my face
purr rumbling like a deep earthquake.
Twain, Found In the Ruins
by Matthew Campbell
“My kind of loyalty was loyalty to one’s country, not to its institutions or its officeholders. The country is the real thing, the substantial thing, the eternal thing; it is the thing to watch over, and care for, and be loyal to; institutions are extraneous, they are its mere clothing, and clothing can wear out, become ragged, cease to be comfortable, cease to protect the body from winter, disease, and death.”
― Mark Twain, A Connecticut Yankee in King Arthur’s Court
Empty Headed
Empty Headed by Jade Hurteau. Click for more!
The Arms of Morpheus
By Ronald Moran
It happened last night, the first time
in over
fifty years: I lay in bed for seven hours
awake,
Lovers’ Quarrel (Callous)
By Tyler Michaud
the uneasy refrain of my breath fills the modest apartment,
and you search for the words in its mass like rent in the laundry fund.
you’re in the next room, composing yourself. the arrhythmia in your step betrays you,
Death in the Neighborhood
by Bob Meszaros
Here, foreclosures slowly rot:
their wooden shingles warp and snap;
at night, thieves and drunkards rip the molding
from the plaster walls and strip the copper
piping from below the sinks.
Bound for Crawford Station
Relax on a train traversing the scenic route through the mountains!
Road Map
By Michaela Zelie
My body fought
when you began unraveling the threads
of its scar tissue veil.
I cringed at the way you read
the coordinates,
Roommate Wanted
By Judy Carr
to share my luxury survival
condo located in renovated
Atlas F missile silo, equipped
to withstand nuclear shock, global
warming and other unnatural
disasters.
Tango Nuevo
By M.J. Iuppa
In sheer daylight, spider’s silk
trembles like a guitar string
plucked to the tune of swallows’
wings dipping in & out and over-
New Canaan
Or does Her ghost in modern times
Roam on New England’s moorland snow;
Or is the Spirit of the Lord
“From sea to shining sea” bestow’d.
Dogs
By Mitchell Krockmalinik Grabois
Shove a juicy bone
into the mouth of the barking dog
He has no right to disturb my peace
but why be mad about it?
He’s just being what he is
an attenuated descendent
of a snarling wolf
Girlhood
By Hannah Calkin
During my teenage years I lost
My belief in Fairy Tales and pixie dust
But came to see myself as Persephone:
Legend of beauty, freedom, and imprisonment.
A dynamic dichotomy of all sorts.
A Nameless Bird
by Tyrel Kessinger
After my wife leaves for work, I round up my two daughters and we head to the backyard, an old raggedy quilt in hand. For a July morning in Kentucky it’s, quite surprisingly, a very pleasant one. Far too nice to not be taking advantage. My youngest daughter occupies the quilt with me under the shade of the one tree I can name, our Japanese Maple.