JODA SHIN HAND ROSARY BY HARRIET GELLER
I pray with my tears, each one
splashing a bead of the rosary.
There are two kinds of beads (as if
there were only two kinds of sadness)
Month: July 2017
FALLING BY HARRIET GELLER
It would be so kind if love were merely blind.
Not seeing past my sweetheart’s mask
Would be a minor ax to grind.
REHAB BOY BY LAURA BONAZZOLI
don’t gape don’t
even glance
up again
to confirm
that jigsawed
off-kilter
swagger
FROM A BENCH IN WASHINGTON SQUARE PARK BY HARRIET GELLER
The uppermost limbs, a flurry of black lace
against layered blue-gray sky, entice
a scrambling squirrel, who risks all
Small Atrocities by Susan V. Meyers
“What are you drawing?” She holds up a picture of a woman, one half of her torso shrunken. On the ground, there is a small pile of curved bones. Julia tells me that these are the woman’s ribs.
Read MoreTO DO LISTS BY MARIANNE LYON
Who doesn’t make
lists of chores
grocery supplies
birthday cards to send
NO SHINING WATER BY JACK D. HARVEY
let’s throw away our past,
every blessed thing we loved,
throw it away for good;
it betrayed us
PATTERNS BY JEANINE STEVENS
Migrating tundra swans stream
through the Pacific Flyway.
Some say the ashen sky is common
this time of year.
OLD TIME BY ALEX NORDENSON
After all, a man only wears one watch.
Read MoreSUBWAY NOIR BY DAVID BELMONT
I walked left off lower Broadway onto Stone Street. The sign on the window said MTA Customer Service Center. The room looked like my old public school gym, but without the basketball hoops.
Read MoreWILD DOLL BY JEANINE STEVENS
These legs seem right for running,
a brief escape through late summer.
MOUNTAINS BY CHARLENE STEGMAN MOSKAL
Warped and melded,
the immutability of mountains,
pushed and shoved time
into crenelated niches and canyons.
