Face to Face
by David Wagoner At the outer corners of the eyes, the skin has come to points like directional indicators, and at the inner curves of the nose,
if this is all there is it better be enough
by Robert Roley there’s the war it seems it’s endless dreams crouching before the fire withered gray in
stranded fast upon these shores as twilight deepens
by Robert Roley stymied before icons of the virtual the news all apocalypse colorado burning words
the glove box poet
by Robert Roley gone downtown heard some old geezer gassin’ they can’t take nothin’ from you once you’re skint
Architecture
by Robbie Sugg I live in a concrete monolith cells divided by sheetrock plaster plateglass plastic
Observing Glen Park
by Robbie Sugg Clouds diffuse over the canyon, plank houses rise on stilts to meet the rice paper sky. The age old