Category: Summer 2015 Poetry
a toast to the apocalypse
by John Lorence a toast to sunlight’s smidgen of disclosure. to the magnificent bath of dark clouds being drawn in the west end. to the
the visitation
by John Lorence hours ago, in what is not yesterday, before arriving in his moment of rage, before being too shy was underlined, before ripping
The Spy Who Came In For His Appointment
by Mark Parsons The difference between a perfectionist and a man obsessed, the difference between us, doctor.
What’s In A Name, From A Height
by Mark Parsons In the town square below community service ex–convicts with plumb hatchets, chisels and mallets chip and whittle, carving
Success Comes To A Place Too Sad To Have A Name
by Mark Parsons We started with communal living, drugs. Then got involved in real estate scams, extortion, blackmailing a restaurant owner for
On Coming to Her
by George Repp It’s not about originality as much as it is borrowing paints to generate a message that targets the reader to feel and feel
Spence Hot Spring
by Molly M. Caldwell Spence Hot Spring Jemez River, NM TripAdvisor said be careful not to swallow Janis Joplin’s pubic hairs, and mind the
A Long Drive for a Short Hike in Maine
by Molly M. Caldwell You sleep most of the way like you do most of the time. From Ellsworth to Machias I drink cold coffee from a handmade mug
Eulogy
by Molly M. Caldwell The skin on my father’s calves hangs like a translucent bag full of tiny purple lightning bolts — little blue streams,
Navy Coffee
by Eric Forsbergh Cook! Boil us a pot. Fresh. Or yesterday’s. We don’t care as long as there’s no skin of mold. Better take it bitter. Black.