by Leila Farjami After you walkor fly awayfrom your body,a long winter takes hold,with its slumped oaksand graying sun. From your windowinside an empty house,I could watch the garden for days.From above, your eyesmight watch me. Our words to each otherwill be breathwoven into the airoutside of time.My language will…
by Roxanne Finniss It starts at night,when my mind has fallen asleep,leaving me defenseless.The trauma of the blade,thick in width and sharpened to a point,causes bruises underneath my eyes.Why don’t you ever brush your teeth?My fiancé said the other day to mewhen I was laying in my bed all comfy.I…
by Hibah Shabkhez Usher me in, whispers chaos, grinningWickedly. The earth rails at the grey squaresOf concrete bordered with red lines of brickUpon which you are grotesquely wobblingIn the aimless revolt of youth that caresFor order, and ashamed of it, is quickAnd ferocious in calling for endings – Usher me…
by Laine Derr When I getmy wits . . . I keep onein the head ready to runready to pop points spray –rat-a-tat-tat that’s howthe thoughts get got, cutand beveled too short totrim the top.
by Mitchel Montagna Evening came, and never passed throughIt clung to the valley like smokeThe heat settled in and no earthly wind blewA layer of clouds swiftly broke. People looked strange in the dim purple lightTheir pallor and features were goneThey huddled on corners and waited for nightBut twilight just…
by Dee Allen MARCH 26, 2022—8:30pm to 9:30pm PT On this Saturday evening,I take a breakFrom electricity. Decisive move,Hand to wall switch.Lights off. Candles on. Lit match to a few candle wicks.Shadows on walls and ceiling shimmy,Dance to flame’s spontaneous rhythm. Dimly litComfort zone, filled withComfort food on a plate,…
by Leila Farjami I Would you liketo own a broken heart? Do you have any usefor one? I’ll give you mine for free. II I have a fatal—black-haired,immigrant-status,countryless,head-in-the-clouds,awful-daughter, bad-sister,nagging-wife, bitter-hermit,wild-witch, human-imposter—condition. III I am all pain. This pain isthe eternal ash treeoutside my windowthat rehearses dyingeach winter,clings to whatever remains,…
by Laine Derr Like a red-faced warbler,he stumbles across our yard. A father I rarely see, imagesof dappled light mark a face familiar, like a morning mirror,eyes singing a summer song – I come from a jagged lineof men who leavetheir wives on sunny days,kids playing in yardsnewly mowed, tortoiseor…
by Roxanne Finniss I understand whyyou never wanted to be buried.It begins with a hole6-feet below to preventthe odor of decay.They preserve your skin and organsthrough the process of embalming.Then your family must decidewhether your body mightbe presented in an open casket. (A dead body,that no longer holds the soulin…
by Amber Allehoff thoughts like polka-dotscircular and scattered.shattered dreamsa million beams of lightthat never mattered.