The Fishermen at Guasti Park
The Fishermen at Guasti Park by Maurya Simon In the first days of summer the three elms, those slightly opened fans, unfold their shadows across
The Fishermen at Guasti Park by Maurya Simon In the first days of summer the three elms, those slightly opened fans, unfold their shadows across
Labor Day by Joseph Millar Even the bosses are sleeping late in the dusty light of September. The parking lot’s empty and no one cares.
And We Are Hiding Now by Natalie Crick For some time they sat in the cornfield And spoke like dull mice About what would be
Typing by Kie Borsden While no minute can last forever, (there is always one in each folded hour to lend itself to me, and seamlessly
CHECKPOINT US-2016 by Stefanie Bennett … And there’s rain On the rear-view Mirror One Heart-beat Away From here.
Raw by Oscar Smiles Back taters down by the dozen square ol amble hordes The ol -just go to heaven- mirage Let’s not….let’s not assume
CHERRY by Ken Williams Eighteen years old isn’t old enough. We aren’t old enough to make life and death decisions. Nor are we old enough
The Cancer Port by Robert King It’s called a port, a harbor, haven, home, a city on the coast of my chest opened for a
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
THE WORST POET IN THE WORLD by Marc Carver Have you heard about the worst poet in the world He tells people to F off