Selective Memory
by Andy Clausen Back in the early nineties on the way to a poetry gig in Humboldt County my car went kaput And I wound up in a motel
Simple Words
by Neeli Cherkovski I keep wading in the mud of the Classic poets, they have a fine morbidity and a clean psychology trust in the epic that ends
Finding the Boy
by Stephen Petroff At Night, I am Awakened from dreaming to look through the window — As water is welling, the moon’s eyes
Entreaty
by Stephen Petroff Moon and moth, Take us upon the night sky, All but out of reach Of philistines and loathsome politicians, Who hound artists as
A Water Jar
by Stephen Petroff Whenever he went out in the woods to work, When he walked out into the fields, He took a jar of water with him.
Dropout boogie
by H. D. Brown I saw the tattoo a snake curling around a dagger the type of cliché a good artist can slap on a jarhead between beers I saw it in