Category: Poetry

Poetry by Sean Thomas Dougherty: “These Ordinary Days”

Out of the brown bag I placethe red wine and sack of sugar I swing our eldest daughterdespite my swollen knee and fix you coffee with cream,and the clouds swirl like the unsayable our daughters curly headedand crying, run out the glass porch door,I watch them through an invisible windowLike the one between us and…
Poetry by Jim Daniels: “Boo Boo”

Someone’s feelings were hurt. BadBoo Boo. Oops, Boo Boo. Some-one’s feelings. O I felt your feelings,wet smooshy feelings.Big Bang Theory of Hurtfeelings. Dealingswith feelings. Gel and a wetcomb. Band-aids and Cand-aids. Bloody sweet feelings.The Long and Shortof feelings. Errors-in-the-scorebook hurtfeelings. Wheeler-dealer feelings. O.Just O of hurt feelings.I am so O for yourhurt feelings. Can I…
Knar Gavin: Two Poems

My Cooter, Your Us upon being expelledfrom the uterus& them brigade my neighbor cuts offall our hair and rollstowel around skull screams our uteruses have been pluckedout, outs me out thoughshe probablydoesn’t meanours—hers or mine—but thePlatonic Table Uterus, thatuterus, and i suppose i’m supposed tojust trust—to believe it’s there,and sometimes she she is uterustlingin the…
Dear Brother Excerpts: A.M. O’Malley Poetry

Dear Brother Three babies came between us. They were all sucked away or withered on the vine. The summer you were born I had buds forming on my branches. I had touched tongues for extended periods of time with boys who thought I was fifteen or sixteen, boys with skateboards, boys with ripped collars, boys…
“What Has Become of Freedom?”: A Poem by Ace Boggess

—Bob Hicok, “To Find the New World” The trouble with freedom is being freenot to think about freedom or desire escapeto freedom. Easy spending too many hourswatching the same news on televisionwith nothing new about it to make it newsexcept in name. The machine god pulls its levers &an airplane disappears—sleight of a clockwork handas…
“Poem” by Ryan Mills

Or is it all but that rock(s)grey courtyard naked trees. & It is all but that this isFall & much Septemberalive & of. Throw pebbles at the sky;“ ing “ “ “ se words;they say wind or wind chimes. Months pass by mistressedmattresses pebbly & one to climbthey say wind or wind & It goes…
Poetry by C.T. McGaha: “2 Blessed 2 Be Stressed”

the older i getthe harder it getsto believe in mydarkest heart ofhearts that chekhov’sgun was everloaded. take a look at thatsalamander atthe parkscurryingacross the monkeybars and tell methat the sun‘ll still risein the eastwhen i die. C.T. McGaha is a writer from Charlotte, North Carolina. He founded and co-edits Vanilla Sex Magazine. His work has…
Two Poems by Joe Milazzo

Yaphet Kotto Stardust doesn’t matter when you’re WillRobinson-ed in the cleft of the leading man’schin, this rift tantamount to a laser show itselfthe envy of the shock and awe dropping its nothinglike nothing under the sun. Meanwhile,what would the sun’s shadow look like, I wonder,panning for lens flares in the unmappedfolds of this hurtling doom…
“Joe West’s Brother”: A Short Story by Siamak Vossoughi

The beautiful thing about fighting fascism, eighty-nine-year-old Joe West was saying, is that if you die, you die on the side of every work of art ever created, even the bad ones, you die on the side of every book and every song and every painting, and every one of them belongs to you now…