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Ten books about exile and displacement

July 8, 2016 – 6:58 am | No Comment

The Caribbean experience has, since the “discovery” of the West Indies in the 15th century, been marked by exile, displacement, comings and goings, and the creation of diaspora everywhere from …

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Pat A Physics »

Every Moment

August 24, 2016 – 7:55 am | 2 Comments

Every Moment
by Pat A Physics

Stammering into the microphone, the scarecrow mannequin version of you spits hay dribbling down like zebra stripes.  The audience is a mechanical one.  It gives you comfort to peer into their blue lit faces.  Intensity can be bracketed with all your entries.  Buttons are suggested, glass is tapped, and phones are ringing off the hook.  Oh, but you are not off the hook as you feel the wizard’s harsh evaluation thwarting your bright future.  The one you thought you could perceive in the lonely padded saloon.  Is it my time to shine? you wonder to yourself while delivering anecdotal snares and figetting figetting forgetting your lines your lines your life you feel lifeless.   Remember that cool moment?  The light is in your face with pauses languishing in an involuntary sputter.  Hell hanging on your serif driven nightmare.  There is an illegible blur making the avalanche slip closer to your poorly constructed igloo of a mind.  Leonard shows a moving tarantula through the zoepraxioscope rhythmically crawling toward you from your podium lamp.  Will they give me a few seconds to recompose?  Doubt sprung from dependence sprung from your need of affirmation sprung from your nettlesome lack of esteem sprung from the dull as fuck monotony spitting coins like a goddamned jackpot of ennui!  The miller’s daughter’s teeth rotting yellow as your greasy hair that falls in your face.  My hands are frozen and why can I not poop?  And that song makes you cry, of course.  Like a spelling bee baby cakewalk, we are sorry- you can’t sit down.  You didn’t move fast enough, and the song has stopped.  Music paused abruptly.  Jarring lose tears of frustration which turn to fists of construction paper and pacing in the hall and bedroom.  What to do?  Pointer finger closing and opening, closing and opening.  A wide sweep with your palm in a circle as you bring it toward your chest and down toward your other hand.  Smooth breathing with eyes upturned.  Monday will make us thankful for the weekend.  Tuesday will let us get halfway through.  Wednesday will give us our marching band music.  Thursday will make us joke with you.  And Friday will be the day when we will finally get paid.  You can’t trust in God when all you see is dust and stars and clouds and mirror pools from rain.  Chicken juice!


August 22, 2016 – 6:17 am | 2 Comments

by Marc Carver
Have you heard about the worst poet in the world
He tells people to F off on stage.
Goes to the mic drunk.
Makes fun of …

City Made of Centuries of Breath

August 20, 2016 – 10:12 am | One Comment

City Made of Centuries of Breath
by Dan Raphael
As though the air was glass or ice
all but what i’m swimming through
the dangerous step between media
orientation before acceleration
The less you weigh the …


August 18, 2016 – 7:09 am | One Comment

by John D Robinson
My wife has gone away;
it’s only been a matter of
hours and I’m thinking
about masturbating and
smoking joints and
swallowing codeine and
the dog doesn’t want to
know me; she …


August 16, 2016 – 7:08 am | 2 Comments

by Ruth Z Deming
He lay on the sofa in his briefs, watching his belly rise up and down. He’d hung up his blue cop uniform in the bedroom …


August 14, 2016 – 6:03 am | One Comment

by Matthew Phillips
Half-awake, scratching red mosquito bites on the inside
of my left ankle, swelling with aching water thoughts
while dawn chases fang-like cold from incisor mountains—
I feel like a bird-fish …


August 12, 2016 – 6:02 am | One Comment

by Lizette Woodworth Reese
No wind, no bird. The river flames like brass.
On either side, smitten as with a spell
Of silence, brood the fields. In the deep grass,
Edging the dusty roads, …

Fishing on the Susquehanna in July

August 10, 2016 – 6:01 am | One Comment

Fishing on the Susquehanna in July
by Billy Collins
I have never been fishing on the Susquehanna
or on any river for that matter
to be perfectly honest.
Not in July or any month
have I …

The Philosopher in Florida

August 5, 2016 – 9:58 am | One Comment

The Philosopher in Florida
by C. Dale Young
Midsummer lies on this town
like a plague: locusts now replaced
by humidity, the bloodied Nile
now an algae-covered rivulet
struggling to find its terminus.
Our choice is a …

The Garden Outside The House

August 3, 2016 – 9:53 am | One Comment

The Garden Outside The House
by Natalie Crick
She was out there again that morning.
Talking, laughing, singing,
The garden filled with sweet birdsong
And the aroma of summer.
The sunset leaked red blood,
Annihilating him.
A love …

what passes between us

August 2, 2016 – 7:48 am | One Comment

what passes between us
by Jude Dillon
what passes between us
on your lips
closer than talk
and sees
high wind
and steady
you know
the dark of me
in a dry martini
kinda way
what snowflakes
between now
and spring?
the quiet edge …

The Girl in the Yellow Raincoat

July 31, 2016 – 9:44 am | One Comment

The Girl in the Yellow Raincoat
by Jordan McElheran

There is a girl walking
In a yellow rain-

She carries a
Red umbrella
Through the sunlit mall

The air is warm as she
Walks and her …

“This would be a beautiful place to die.”

July 29, 2016 – 9:43 am | One Comment

“This would be a beautiful place to die.”
by Chris Castro-Rappl
It’s not that it wasn’t. Snow had drifted
around our feet, purged muddy footprints
from this gentle desolation. I could
have lain in it …


July 27, 2016 – 9:40 am | One Comment

by Ken Williams
In innocence
we watched,
Dow’s special package
Misty white, so pretty
enchantingly drifting down
Pterodactyl war machines
flying shallow Vs
Glistening, mesmerizing
late afternoon sun
Shrouding all
those still to die
as it falls
Man made fog
seductive carnage …

In Silence, I speak… by Megha Bajaj

July 26, 2016 – 10:16 am | One Comment
In Silence, I speak… by Megha BajajPlay

In Silence, I speak… by Megha Bajaj

Book Review – A Place called Winter by Patrick Gale

July 15, 2016 – 9:37 am | No Comment

Book Review – A Place called Winter by Patrick Gale
Review by Ben Macnair
A Place Called Winter is one of those books with a big heart, humanity, and an ability to …

the shape of negative point twelve

July 8, 2016 – 5:07 am | One Comment

by Halifax
you began a person
the idea you claim
was given to you
for others to use
it slows to a crawl
and becomes a place
others keep blame
once the thing dies
it housed you
though you have …


June 23, 2016 – 6:43 am | One Comment

by John Grey
Late afternoon,
sun sinks into marsh,
osprey links up with her nest,
cormorant perches on
a mangrove branch, wings
spread wide, drying out for
last time this day,
a copperhead slithers
into thick reeds,
provides …


June 7, 2016 – 7:01 am | One Comment

By Adam Vines
Last summer’s fishing failures dangled from trees:
a Rapala and Jitterbug a stand
of privet paid for, half-ounce jigs with rubber skirts
and jelly worms with wide-gap hooks on ten-pound test
we …


June 5, 2016 – 6:59 am | No Comment

by John Bennett
Rance came out of a hard nap to a ringing phone. It’s a woman saying in her usual highly-intelligent state of confusion that never fails to cast a …

Monday’s Laundry

June 3, 2016 – 6:58 am | No Comment

Monday’s Laundry
by Frank Scarangello
How white Monday’s laundry
against a bright blue sky of summer
hung from a clothesline stretching
from a third floor window to a telephone pole
watching grandma hang the clothes
my feet …

The Persians by Rumi

June 1, 2016 – 6:55 am | No Comment

The Persians by Rumi
By Brandon Brown
If you’re love’s lover and look for love
cold smoke the dog called bashfulness
beware for your conversation is a hindrancy
this poem isn’t interested I’ll bill you
Why’d …

8 Till Late

May 29, 2016 – 6:51 am | No Comment

8 Till Late
by Christopher Barnes
King Canute rostrums transmissions,
Grand view ads, fitful half-light channels.
Wizardry reads signals, embodiments
In impulsive jumps.
At The Golden Filament TV Emporium
He’s heart-warmed to overtime,
Is sold what to bag
When …

Men at the Hotel Pool

May 27, 2016 – 6:48 am | No Comment

Men at the Hotel Pool
by Michael Miller

With a single pale look, the boy casts them as judges.
Naked but for wet trunks, he sets his glasses down
and …

Summer Mowing

May 25, 2016 – 6:47 am | No Comment

Summer Mowing
by Jennifer Gray
He has transformed
his Tonka dump truck
into a push mower, using
lumber scraps and duct tape
to construct a handle
on the front end of the dump box.
One brave screw
holds the …

Chicken Breast or Rump Roast

May 23, 2016 – 6:45 am | No Comment

Chicken Breast or Rump Roast
by Donal Mahoney
Freddie and Fern were an old couple, a very old couple if truth be told, but on the matter of age, the truth seldom …


May 21, 2016 – 6:42 am | One Comment

by John Grey
He lived so close to the cypress swamp,
the howls, the screeches, the thrashings, of death
were as common as bird song.
From the deep bass notes of day
to the coffin …

Spring In Remission

May 19, 2016 – 6:41 am | One Comment

Spring In Remission
by Noah Gordon
I’m thinking of the shy way
you walked toward the treeline,
and how we talked about the oldest
Cave in Illinois,
how they boarded it up after a blind child …


May 10, 2016 – 8:14 am | 3 Comments

e pluribus unium
by Halifax
there are wars
but not peaces
we oversleep
not sleep in
conflict is broken
into shared pieces
reciprocated in kind
until a full spread
has been laid out
peace is portrayed
in a field waving
like a picnic …

Riding Schwinns in ’56

April 28, 2016 – 7:46 am | One Comment

Riding Schwinns in ’56
by Donal Mahoney
You had to have a Schwinn
to lead this pack of boys
riding bikes full speed
baking under the Chicago sun
laughing after senior year
heading to the local park
to …

Worldly Ambassadors

April 24, 2016 – 7:43 am | 2 Comments

Worldly Ambassadors
by Pat A Physics
“There is very little time,” she entoned.  “Yeah,” I half laughed half said.  “These are what you need to take, and the more you experience, the …