by John P. Kristofco Sat there smoking, reading texts,her old black car purring in the chill October air,dark hair swept to shouldersrounded like the hillsidesshaped by years behind that wheel;the wrinkle of her mouth,shadows at the corners of her eyes,skin that caught the yellow morning light,lips too thin, it seemed,…
by Gil Hoy I walk behind you, Allen Ginsberg, under the bright neon lightsof your California supermarket. I worry you’ll turn, bite my neck And suck out my blood, while yawping hysterically. I am America’shomophobic store detective and you are under arrest. America apologizes for your headache self conscious. You, for…
by The Poet Darkling I gaze upon the poet;her words – ponderless, profound;deep and dark and blue –and think,what such have I to offerfrom my humble beginningsor my sordid pastto justify the title of poet? To answer the unanswerable? To defend my consumptionof fish, of fowl, of air, of love?…
by Kristal Peace My confidant… How did we get here againTo knives thrownHoles madeVows shatteredFeelings swayed. My ally… When did we find our way backTo moments beforeCivilized discourseTo rage and fearAnd throats screamed hoarse. My sympathizer… Why do we prefer the roadAdorned with bramblesThistles and thornsLittered with grudgesAnd studded with…
by The Poet Darkling Wrenched from the fryerstraight into the flamesof hatred and avarice goall duty and senseand a thousand convictionswe’ve deemed unneeded,such as dignity, pride,and any righteous defense when our moral leaders areneither leaders nor moraland we give them a passto escape the blamewhich belongs to no oneexcept We…
by Thomas Griffin The night before the August blue moon howling with coyotes on Putney Mtn warning barks of dogs alarmed someone entered their tethered territory, wailing past the yipping coyotes in the Brookline valley below eight off-key crooners concatenations of lament, ballyhoo, query. Who are you lone brother why…
by Thomas Griffin Crinkle-leafed prongs of summerphlox poke out of snow amidstwhiskers of seeds on the noseof ragweed shafts crab tree with a few dark rubiesyet to dropporcupine of stripped quincehead snowed under half-the-moon crown tiltstoward black woods rosy waves of clouds backthe fading sun falling behind trees— everything looks…
by Amy Covel Fear can drive a man mad. Fear of failure and loss,Not of a loved oneOr a possession,But the selfish pursuitOf one’s own perfection. This test of fearIs passed by the manContent to earnAnd claim as his ownA monster’s soul. For monsters feel no fear,So why be human,Crippled…
by Thomas Griffin The fog will not leaveno sun ascendsmist makes the worlda road and the treesweep all day
by Amy Brian You walk slowly As we go down the road. Mist flicks our cheeks, One thousand tears in the air. Your boots drag against the gravel, Punctuating each step we take. Pebbles scamper, making blissful declarations: Pop, pop, pop. The wind gives us his hello; Its rhythm can…