by Marc Tretin Because the cake they bought for me had two breasts with cherry nipples, I felt understood by my staff. I was really impressed with its icing, “Welcome Back to Girlhood, And Fuck This Job’s Cheap Health Insurance.” I put two party balloons under my blouse then popped…
by Marc Tretin I won’t get tattooed nipples. The insurance will not pay to move my ass to my chest. At my office I’ll make a flat appearance. They will think I’m brave, they’ll be impressed. I’d play my loss lightly with a feminist twist. Though women lose more body…
by Craig Kurtz Every day I take the stage, performing sundry characters to harmonize with friends and make peace with motley strangers. I wake up without makeup, the script is virgin paper; my closet’s full of costumes and the world…
by John Grey Raccoons stare at their reflection in the clear edge of the pond. “Wow we really do look like bandits.” Deer find an old water-logged paperback of Felix Salten’s “Bambi,” lick through its pages, never until then knew how capable they were of sorrow, despair and redemption. Thanks…
by Ali Znaidi Prologue Aroma of honeysuckle. —Dust particles falling through her hair. Scene Snowflakes were falling on the street. —Sappho was in her balcony experimenting w/ throwing jasmine in all directions. Epilogue A thick fog appeared. —A halo of Sapphic scents covered all the city.
THE INFOMERCIAL HOURS I flip from station to station of promises for cures to what spins around in my after-midnight mind. For only three payments of $29.99, I can lose weight, tighten muscles, peel back years like Joan Lunden. Only seven minutes left to sign up for a seminar on…
by Ann Marie Wilson-Crockett begins, my legs leaving the warm cocoon of my comforter leading my drowsy feet to the floor. Opening the bedroom door, cats greet my waking, anticipating the clang of the spoon against the tin announcing their tuna and chicken delight Walking upstairs I start calling names the…
by J.L. Amos Disposable Life That lipstick smeared Dixie cup you drank from once. Those roses – snipped at the bud and pinned to your lapel. The paper veil, merely napkins in the wind, animated by the door slam of your departure. Cellophane kisses, smothered by their very nature, simply…
by Christy Bailes With an ear tag, a chest hole, and six knives in my throat, eyes balloon in love-hate rain, falling so violently I can’t see the C-5 fly past as slow as her last smile, although I hear the plane, drumming a military farewell with such force her…
April is National Poetry Month, and, to celebrate, The Penmen Review is having a Book Spine Poetry Contest! So, what is book spine poetry? Use the contents of your library and arrange book titles to create a poem. You can see examples here: https://bookriot.com/2012/10/26/the-best-of-book-spine-poetry/ To enter, take a photo of your…