Poetry

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Four Poems

(Laura Sims)

His face


Shone
At dusk
So odd

             Yet

             So pleasing

A stone—



Then
His skull

            Was inhabited

            Lightly

Such colors 
Were called
To my tiny

           Own

           Head

Was at ease.
I was more
Than what

            Kept me
 
            Myself

In the dread
Fourth World
 




A hundred parts of
You



Inside
The Gold Apartment



You
Lock the door

A piece
Of wire in hand

You like
Your habits then



You dream
Of marching

Up the hill
And down

Again and
Fingers pointing



Now

A hundred parts of
You



One
A lily

One
A rose

And so on
 




Who Malingers


Cannot go on

*

...

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Two Poems

(Whit Griffin)

No attempt at the picturesque, another peasant revolt has left the orchard

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Four Poems

(Elliot Conrad)

Paused to let a wave of regret pass I stared at the goldfish in the pond

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To People Who Sometimes Read

(Paige Taggart)

Sometimes the only thing leaving me alone is me;

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5 Poems

(Claire Donato)

Part of ramping up is to adopt a thick gold tooth.

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Neither / Nor

(Rob MacDonald)

To say that something is wrong in the cities is to imply that

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Two Poems

(Kate Greenstreet)

We have to burn everything

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I Have Only Known Careless Love

(John Gallaher)

The dolls are dreaming again of the house with hinges.

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Five Poems

(Farrah Field)

The coyote knows where we are at all times. It hears what we’re saying, that we didn’t spend

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