A POIGNANT COMMUTE BY JOEY DALLA BETTA
A half mile down the road I noticed someone had cut the tall grass under a tree on the north side, where he may have spent the night
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MY PEN IS RUNNING OUT BY MARKUS EGELER JONES
my pen is empty of its gasoline.
it sputters along this page.
leaving scratched marks where words
should be, leaving dotted lines
where letters should be
WORKING TITLE BY JACOB WESTLIN
I went through a frustrating plethora of freelance writing assignments during this period, with various levels of success and exacerbation — success in this case defined simply as not prompting murderous feelings of bitter resentment.
Read MoreKINGS BY RONALD J. PELIAS
all the king’s horses
and all the king’s men
are glad
THE BRIDGE BY BARBARA DANIELS
Near us, butterflies so firmly
mated they fly together
A DAY AT THE CAPE BY RICHARD LEBOVITZ
Gulls squawk their alarm
as we invade their beach.
At our feet lies the ocean,
thousands of miles wide
PRESERVATION BY ROBERT J. SAVINO
I reach out into emptiness,
feel an aura of unrest,
hear cries in many tongues,
some worse than others.
And though I’ve crossed the start line,
failed to scale hurdles, between,
it’s not what you think.
I let hope take the relay to the finish line.
Four Corners, U.S.A. By Kasy Long
She blames herself for the battles;
I blame myself for the war.
A silent night in the desert,
we meet where the four states patch together
KEPLER FUGUE BY BENJAMIN RENNE
At last the summer months gained friction and the calculations dimmed away beneath the long stretch of daylight.
Read MoreINVISIBLE FOOTSTEPS BY TONI PALOMBI
IN A CROWDED refugee camp in Bethlehem, Echlas chain-smokes her way through a pack of cigarettes recently purchased by her 9-year-old neighbor. Small for his age, and always smiling, he drops by often to ask whether she needs anything from one of the small shops in the camp.
Read MoreDESOLATION THESAURUS BY DAVID ANTHONY SAM
Break the falsity of self
into its bony fragments
