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Showing posts from December, 2020

Melissa Eleftherion

  swallow erasure flashing white underparts the violet swallows the tree dark breast of diagnostic erratic abundant all rump and face all hard for the flight itself perch of throat & siren Melissa Eleftherion (she/they) is a cis queer human, a writer, a librarian, and a visual artist. She is the author of field guide to autobiography (The Operating System, 2018), & numerous chapbooks, including little ditch (above/ground press, 2018) & trauma suture (above/ground press, 2020). Born & raised in Brooklyn, Melissa created, developed, and co-curates The SFSU Poetry Center Chapbook Exchange with Elise Ficarra. She now lives in Northern California where she manages the Ukiah Library, teaches creative writing, & curates the LOBA Reading Series. Recent work is available at  www.apoetlibrarian.wordpress.com .

Timothy Gager

New York Confession New York was hard to find only if I pealed the onion, I can pray for sleep to overtake the stumble, into place and stumble out, never saw what’s in front of my face: Life’s jugglers, clowns, the beat masters of three card monte, I won then the stakes got higher in a city of nightmares, morning, afternoon, night feel like different places unless troubled, they merged into one, I was awake through all waiting for the city to let me go forced to sing myself to supper by climbing the highest mountains the trees in The Village. On 2nd street, and Avenue C I was lost, even with obvious nomenclature of the corner smack in the middle in the intersection, my arms stretched out, Jesus, 4 AM, begging for crucifixion. Timothy Gager is the author of fifteen books of fiction and poetry. His latest, Spreading Like Wild Flowers, is his eighth of poetry. Timothy hosted the successful Dire Literary Series in was the co-founder of The Somerville News Writers

Jeff Weddle

And So It Goes Naked and forgetting the safety of sheets she stands by a dirty window of dead flies and open curtains gazing at the half-empty parking lot. A young man walking to his car fails to notice her accidental gift of beauty his mind caught on the one he has abandoned in a different room while her puzzled lover asks again why she has left the bed and the young man starts his car and pulls away with no idea where the night will take him and she says aloud she is not sure why she was ever there at all. Visiting Home  On the church steps with grey and purple clouds and the night songs of animals cars going somewhere with their lights and noise fireflies and a man running as my father back at the house is caught in a failing body barely able to move in his ancient black recliner and my mother watches him for signs of need but seeing none settles on cleaning his denture in this last bit of smoke when we are all still a