by Chris Bullard
Hell is the new black.
Everyone is going there,
so plan a visit in winter.
The chill on your face
will almost make you feel alive. Continue reading
by Chris Bullard
Hell is the new black.
Everyone is going there,
so plan a visit in winter.
The chill on your face
will almost make you feel alive. Continue reading
Filed under Poetry
by Esteban Rodríguez
Because every computer would die,
and software would become a relic
overnight, your father packed a survival kit,
bought extra water, canned food,
cartridges for a shotgun he feared
he’d have to use, warning of asesinos,
ladrones, of a desperation that would lead us
to do things we thought we’d never do.
Continue reading
Filed under Poetry
by Joe Balaz
Incurious
and numb to it all
da emotional atmospherics
dat stay emanating from da brain
is kinnah different
den da locomotive pulling da train.
Continue reading
Filed under Poetry
by Kathleen Hellen
“Find Your Fearless,” said the piggy
on the desk in separate offices
of banks of America, Continue reading
Filed under Poetry
by Karen Kovacik
after Elizabeth Acevedo
Although I am his wife, I’m no longer his lover.
I am not the washcloth that fondles
his penis and balls, nor the spoon
of sorbet on his tongue. I am not oxygen
tubing that swishes behind him like a skirt,
rival imagined from literal air, Continue reading
Filed under Poetry