by Wesley McNair Remembering all the sorrow at the last Sykes reunion, when the family patriarch and war hero, Homer, went down at the microphone
by Russ Sargent Here I am, donning the savage bliss. Charging my genome with metagrams before those mutant maggots show up and try to teach me
by Steve Luttrell It was always about beginnings. The first push to what seemed most insistent. The impulse then to act, to bring off some
by Joe Richey mottled butterfly alights on a rock to roar * ancient pond polluted frog belly up * o star o powerful western star! are you a star?
by Gary Lawless today the blueberries taste like pine. I look across the field, to the cemetery, see horses, running, prayer flags in the breeze.
by Gary Lawless i blue below our feet blue field field full of berries blue bay below clouds, crows, wood lily under blue sky, on our way to
by Jack Collom nosebleed sonnet Gore Pour The nose . . . when I was young I used to be A picker. “Blow that mess!” Investigate That obstacle.
by Mark Melnicove Now that Everyone — is dying — and there is Nothing — to stop them — hallucinogenics are superfluous. I do not need — Anything
by Jim Bishop –1– remember? you are driving down a country road and they appear from nowhere no from black trees by the road three
by Carolyn Gelland “Beauty becomes petulant to me,” said de Kooning. “I like the grotesque. It’s more joyous. . . . ” jackals