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Showing posts from May, 2019

John Dorsey

In Kansas Thinking of You for cherie ted berrigan would never text with his fingers along your skin he would call you to borrow some money or pills he would give you some story about how the moon looks beautiful while sipping a pepsi he would use strong words & dance nude with donna dennis on your parents front lawn they, your parents, would offer him iced tea & cucumber sandwiches while talking about the moon landing about how it seemed like a lot of work you would sit there in flower patterned pajamas while he told you that you deserve to have words wrapped around you like oak trees & all i have to offer you is the kansas wind something of the earth my own thoughts on love which i know isn’t much. The Goats in December the goats across the way are crying sunlight is not the same thing as empathy or brown grass in the middle of winter the river has a lovely singing voice when you place your hand o

Chad Parenteau

Work-Through-Lunch Poem O'Hara never had bad dreams of days like this. Sustenance substituted for vending machine run, not enough time to hold a haiku with your candy bar. Another day, another dead lady trending on Twitter, sad emojis beating your best words-per-minute. Crying kidneys bring you to the bathroom break as you sound out the only poem your colleagues may ever hear. Chad Parenteau is the author of Patron Emeritus, released in 2013 by FootHills Publishing. His work has appeared in Tell-Tale Inklings, What Rough Beast, The Skinny Poetry Journal, Ibbetson Street and Wilderness House Literary Review. He serves as Associate Editor of the online journal Oddball Magazine. His second full-length collection, The Collapsed Bookshelf, is forthcoming.

Heidi Blakeslee

Woman of the Stars bits of astrofluff lightly fall down from her strings of star hair mother galaxy absorbs the bad energy and replenishes us with virtue so that every human on the planet can look up at her every once in a while and feel like a speck of meteor or as big as the sun Heidi Blakeslee lives near Pittsburgh, Pa with James and her cats.  She has written the novels, “Strange Man,” and “The House,” two poetry books, “The Empress of Hours,” and “Should the Need Arise.”  She also wrote “The White Cat: A Paranormal Memoir.” 

Timothy Gager

This Poem is Like a Bruise This poem is like a bruise A deep black Lake Superior knocking over the white caps rolling into last breaths An angry purple from the rage of red until the flattening of color blends into a subdued yellow of surrender If you’re weak of heart this poem is not a holiday, It does not twinkle, nor Are its words, lights from a city observed upon the descent each, a pushpin of hope If you wait, there is just a tiny ripple when a coin is flipped into a well hallow, the eye-socket, black, and empty Timothy Gager is the author of fourteen books of short fiction and poetry. Every Day There Is Something About Elephants , a book of 108 flash fictions, selected by over fifty-five editors, was released by Big Table Publishing in 2018. He's the former host of the successful Dire Literary Series in Cambridge, Massachusetts. He has had over 500 works of fiction and poetry published and of which thirteen have been nomi

Rebecca Schumejda

onefiftythreeam When your house is framed with bones and the walls sheet rocked with flesh there is no room for full-length mirrors or empty apologizes, what I am trying to say is our oldest child can’t sleep she wakes up hourly to tell me she’s afraid and there is nothing I can do to make her fears go away except stay up until she falls back to sleep. This structure is crumbing what I am trying to say is that I am tired of the way the past creaks in the night like a floor when you are trying to sneak back into your own space the way a shadow becomes a river the hum of the heater and then the silence after it shuts off. Remember nothing lasts forever except the memory of who you were until you weren’t any longer. The Cost of Common Household Items While my first home is being raized I watch The Price Is Right in the hospital waiting room and consider the elusiveness of time how organs ca