Climbs My Limbs
by Michael Danahy I am a tree Of blood Rooted in skin. My brain Branches blood and nerve. Touch me: touch skin to skin. We will comb The birds
The Fugitive Oil for James Wright
by Michael Danahy The Monongahela, that flammable river, for once threatened to prove its invisible light. The ghosts of sons of miners’
American Cuneiform
by Glenn Morazzini He kneels on a prayer rug of sand, in a crumpled kurta, hands tied behind his back, looking up at the lesser gods, his
Butterfly Effect: Watching The News On TV While Arguing With My Wife
by Glenn Morazzini According to chaos theory the world is in a state of dynamic flux where all things are inter–connected,
Blunted Night
by Allen Fowler Mice thwart their teeth with what wood holds in the walls, answer to a boning itch, question to a witnessing ear. Poison has been
As Might Love
by Allen Fowler Pierce and ugly caw embroider an edge which parries wind as might love, so so softly that the whole moves as if through water.