by Nancy Dickeman
We push the baby through the crush of waterlogged leaves, past
a slumped brick wall
seared by a swastika’s fresh paint.
The jagged white arms loom,
stark as hooded figures igniting
a tide of embers.
The Fall of 2016
Filed under Poetry
Duffy Takes a Trip
by Robert Leone
Duffy woke up in a room that smelled of disinfectant, supermarket flowers, and urine. A mylar balloon in the shape of a heart lay halfway deflated on the floor next to his bed. ‘Get well soon!’ it demanded in flowing red script. “Fuck you,” Duffy thought. Through the metal-framed window all he could see were clouds and a thin edge of treetops shivering in the cold. “This is no way to die,” he said out loud to no one. Continue reading
Luminary
by Jay Carson
Just in case you think
I got screwed up only recently,
let me tell you about the fire:
My wife in those days was a candle maker
as well as a crazy maker, like many artists,
just good enough to be impossible.
Filed under Poetry
The Daubati
by Mara Mahoney
She is ancient, this woman.
Lines cover her body.
Some the result of time
and others etched onto her skin from a time long ago.
I can barely tell them apart.
Filed under Poetry
