Becoming Song

Mark Strohschein

I am tired

and only want

to try 

nothing more

than to


into sweet, sweet tones

the redwing blackbird owns,

or to ride

on delicate

winds of

the thrush’s song

wondering why

all along

I couldn’t just die  

of a beautiful song.

Mark Strohschein is a Washington state poet who lives on Whidbey Island. His work is forthcoming in Flint Hills Review, Cosmic Double, New Note Poetry and […]

Becoming Song2024-05-23T00:32:47+00:00


Robert Beveridge

sweep of hand

puppets flung

to batter


and table corners

lie cracked


bleeding on the floor


bleach will kill it

stomach acid

saliva immobilizes

like premature burial

hypodermic bleach

needle full of clorox

in the upper thigh


Manhattan Travel Host

Jeffrey H. MacLachlan

skipped class / junior year

fled rural / jersey

first / time

nucleus / capitalist

manhattan / friday

december / thirteenth

apologies / for pauses

still breath / catching

homeless / slumped

rows / supplication

skyscrapers / mighty

credit’s / fallen

broken / disciples

rockefeller / cardio

celebrity / anchor

barbecue / morning

styrofoam / loaded

bowl / steam

center / buckled

left after / appearances

cleared / turnstile

napped / abandoned

a / train

dream / revelation

arose / square times

such / a clatter

asteroid / quarters

rushmore / plummet

resurfaced / cosmic

explosion / blossoms

homeless / cozy

ghosts / christmas

future / retail

santas / looting

packs / voracious

morality / illusion

war is / over

pleading / static

survival / pulses

pupils / aroused

jewelry […]

Manhattan Travel Host2024-05-23T00:27:23+00:00

when it’s over

RC deWinter

I had my
toenails painted blue
just because
I could – and
why not? May as well match them
to the rest of me.

All these blues
in different shades –
robin’s egg
to midnight,
sky blue to cerulean,
heaven to the sea,
which is my
heaven, the place I
want to be
when it ends –
all the hoping, the wanting,
the thrusting for place.

So bring me
to the water, a
boxful of
ash; scatter
me broadcast over blue waves
indifferent to
a few more
ounces of grit no
longer blue,
reduced to
the gray of finality,
sinking, sinking, done.

RC deWinter’s poetry is widely anthologized, notably […]

when it’s over2024-05-23T00:31:00+00:00

Dancing for the Dead

Merna Dyer Skinner

Forgotten are the living           who disappear 

       into skyscraper sugar clouds          Eyes perched

above cheekbones      necks searching    for the Sun 

      inside lightning       Autumn’s iron spoons 

dance    shuck and shuffle      the Clapper Fandango 

      stirring      desert silences        into applause 

from    afterlife performers          Praise-sounds 

Dancing for the Dead2024-05-23T00:32:12+00:00

When The Flood Came

Laurel Silverwood

The white dove landed on the roof 

and tumbled down the chimney.

It emerged from the fireplace

with wings all dusted black.

The girl mistook it for a crow

and chased it from the house,

ignoring the olive branch in its beak.

When The Flood Came2024-05-23T00:31:33+00:00

Mutual Friends

Laurel Silverwood

How are you feeling?

  1. A)       I’m fine. 
  2. B)       My blood is like acid. It eats through my flesh.

I heard of you-know-who the other day. He’s moving in with his new girlfriend.

  1. A) Glad to hear it.
  2. B) Plug my ears with cotton. Drown myself in the bath.

I know things ended kind of weird between you two. I’m […]

Mutual Friends2024-05-23T00:28:02+00:00

Haiku Collection, Pruned

Liam Gehrig Bach

why place our hands / in reach of forbidden fruit? / that just says, “CONSUME.”

crawling in and out / fleeting emotions unknown / and thoughts more unknown

because that which eats / is that which gets to survive / albeit alone

all eyes watch two friends / dance in mud atop the world / laughing at the shame

eyes open in dark / for so long that they forgot / what it means to close

Liam graduated from […]

Haiku Collection, Pruned2024-05-23T00:25:44+00:00

A Neurodualist’s Weapon

Liam Gehrig Bach

my body is all burns and wires

skin and blood, electricity and fires

heartbeat heat that sticks then flows

flat waves at sea, jellyfish that glows

cannot afford sentience like mine

which batters my skull with ice and brine

a black lightbulb which refuses to shine

suppressing a thought, deleting a line


my brain is all slush and […]

A Neurodualist’s Weapon2024-05-23T00:33:25+00:00

What Finally Falls

Jayne Marek

These rhododendron leaves yellow
talismans of neglect. I asked you

to take on the yard, keep it
somehow. Summer

cracked our skins, though
there was little sun. Warblers

and tanagers came late, goldfinches
argued their wings. One slant

of afternoon sliced your chair. The yew’s
red tears already coming out.

Jayne Marek has published six poetry collections, with her next volume, Dusk-Voiced, due in 2023 from Tebot Bach. Her works appear in Terrain, Rattle, The […]

What Finally Falls2024-05-23T00:30:13+00:00
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