by Christy Bailes A Sonnet to Shakespeare If I be your mistress, hand me the sun; let my red lips leave a kiss on your skin. If I be snow, touch my sweet cherry breasts, crisp delicacies for you to taste. If wires be rough on your scratchy face; let…
by Mariah Rackliff There is a battle in my head. Daily filling me with dread. I hear a voice say, “Let me in!” “No!” Says another. “I win!” “I’m depression, I think I’ll stay. How long the visit? I can’t say.” “Come closer dear, now just lie down.” I oblige,…
by Christy Bailes Drought-rain slips off the predator until five-hundred wet pounds make him stand ground, spread like a picked-apart fan. Yellow beads turn his oily, spiked head, as I fly past, sweating ocean salt; it runs like interrupted feathers pulled from God’s washing machine, that dries now in cellophane…
by Amber Box I will deceive you So turn away where the steam of my breath cannot be seen I am wicked You are mortal The shards of glass from your own wreckage Feed my poison Injected into your veins, the ghost of yourself Your treacherous thoughts are only the…
by Jo-Anne Lucas I’m sorry but we have filled the position…. I’m sorry but you are not my type…. I’m sorry but you are no longer welcome here…. It sucks It stings It scorns I’m sorry but I already have a job…. I’m sorry but I am seeing someone…. I’m…
by Christy Bailes My drywall ears shook from French mumblings, like a Mass without God, continuing until her lips tasted coffee with hidden crumblings that replaced church talk with asylum laughter, so long, I bore a cross in my texture, waiting for God to shake religion on her head, but…
By Diane Walters Those younger years filled with teenaged days, borne of bittersweet emotions . . . everything is brighter, life wrapped in energy that bounces and zings with boundless possibilities. Until something happens to bring it crashing down, down, down. Those lows can reach as far down as those…
By Cynthia Roby When your lust is done with me I’m gonna need a hearse. I’m tired, dry. You have twisted and turned my hips pushed and pulled and stretched my thighs planted snatches of hair in my pillow loved me in every which way a woman can be put…
By Alex Scarelli I drew in the dirt of our yard with a stick, watching the late summer sun fall from the sky and my Dad coming up the driveway in his pickup. When he parked, he got out and grabbed his lunchbox and a six-pack of Budweiser from the…
By Dawn Goodwin I hate it when people owe me money and act like they don’t know it. This kind of thing makes it easy for me to hold a grudge against them. I bet the first grudge ever held by mankind was between Adam and Eve. I’m sure Adam…