Hank
Poetry John Grey In summer and fall, he hounds the festivals, guitar strapped to his back, repertoire as ancient as the Appalachians and the streets of London at the time of the plague. He’s not...
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Poetry Erren Kelly Disco Retro i loved the music though seeing people born when carter was president made me feel old my price for being big and black was getting mistaken repeatedly by ms. dkny...
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Poetry K. M. Lighthouse Dust to Dust My mother closes the net and brandishes bunched mesh. Autumnal orange on muted brown draws my fingers in while she cautions: Don’t touch the butterfly dust or...
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Poetry Jared Pearce There are no reasons for ill-timing— how the boy slammed the window only to notice the bat between the pane and screen, folding itself into the deepest corner from the sun, how I...
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Poetry Donna Pucciani Landscape, Sorrento Ages ago, Sorrento made a pact with the sea: I give you lemons, you give me the bay. Limoncello and cobblestones coexist with fish and salt. Citrus soaps and...
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Poetry Diane Webster Knife Etchings The knife etches grooves into glass like cuts of initials into aspen tree bark scarred forever in love by AB + PS now logged and split leaving shards of splintered...
View ArticleThe Dunes
Broker’s Pick D.W. Moody the dust swirled around us the house lost in view behind hills of sand we ducked and hid winding our way through the maze of hills unseen from the world the others somewhere...
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Poetry Holly Day The Letters Keep Coming cringe. draw away from me out of me slough away promises burn holes in dreams I know you, silent in the darkened hall, white armor stripped and revealed to be...
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Poetry Mandy Haggith Araucaria how still still still they stand They have no rustling, fiddling leaves. They are poised. Calm. Open to the sky’s endless moods. Pumping quietly, breathing in what we...
View ArticleHow to Eat a Haitian Mango
Poetry Jerrice J. Baptiste She’s on the hunt for the sweetest mango she’s ever eaten. In the late afternoon, Emile sits on the ground under the shade of her tree, after picking mangoes. A small pile is...
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Poetry Teresa Blackmon Last Request When he dies, I want a black-topped table, one some sophomore used for biology experiments. The smell of formaldehyde to stifle me. I want safety glasses so I can...
View ArticleSanctuary
Poetry Carl Leggo most of my adult life I have spent Sundays in church, but cancer has consumed my spirit, so I now spend Sundays at the Sanctuary, a coffee shop a few minutes up the road Tim built the...
View ArticleRivers
Poetry DS Maolalai the blood of a place is the river. movement giving motion, bringing forward ideas, smells and water-birds; shifting trash and lighting off parks like a fuse leading to fire. that was...
View ArticleAre You There
Poetry Amy Sherwood I see you lying there, in the middle of your living room, set up as if you are on display. Put out in your own home with an open-door policy for others to come in and walk …...
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Poetry Bill Yarrow Collect Enough Fragments, You’ve Got Yourself A Poem 1. The sun’s corona. Empty boxes near the firehouse. Red birth. A bird’s lost wing. 2. The bitterness of littleness. Apples in a...
View ArticleThe Pen
Broker’s Pick Carl Leggo (for Rick) years ago when my first book of poems Growing Up Perpendicular on the Side of a Hill was published, my brother sent me a silver Cross pen with my name engraved my...
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Poetry Timothy Robbins Kazu I wish we’d kept in touch. I want to tell you I’m rereading the Murakami novel. I want to convince you of the affection I feel for a minor character, the caretaker who minds...
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Poetry Josh Smith Black Diamond The easiest path, through the most difficult woods is still Black Diamond. By The Knife Everybody takes cuts in a knife fight. Winning is about who sustains less...
View Articlehand me downs
Poetry Peter D. A. Wood Grandma had dozens of books from her college days the classics like Poe, Tolstoy, Hardy no women though and oddly enough not a single Bible. I pass my fingers over the dry worn...
View ArticleCoffeehouse Poem #339
Poetry Erren Kelly Mourning doves coo As the rain falls silent As dreams A girl types on her laptop She wears her homeland On her face She shows me home Through her eyes They never lie They tell me...
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