Category: Poetry
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Poetry: Jeanette Beebe’s “The Pallbearers”
“His father was with Lee Harvey Oswald prior to Oswald’s being—you know, shot. That was reported, and nobody talks about it. I mean, what was he doing with Lee Harvey Oswald shortly before the death? Before the shooting?” —Donald Trump on Fox News, May 2016 As Kennedy was laid to rest in Washington with…
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Three Poems by Jess Smith
COMPLCT Long taught silence, long known loud. I’ve read we’re ripe for revolution. What’s it like (this is what it’s like) to watchthe world navel-split, umbilical and sticky with citrus? We shake hands, each as viscous as the next, each chin dribbled with what we swear we haven’t eaten, or were not finger-fed. Lipstick on…
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Poetry: “Holiday Advisory” by Jude Marr
A Christmas candle is still a candle if you light it any other day. When the power goes out, a candle gives off enough light to let a person feel they still exist. A candle is always dangerous. Strike a match. The smallest spark is potential conflagration. A cigarette can be Christmas if you spray…
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Poetry & Art Sequence: “Big Enough to Step Inside” by Xan Schwartz
Gemini Rising/Poem for Nellie It was your birthday and Iknew you and I didn’t know you. Your skin was glowinglike a cloud You were surviving to the tune of light beer to the tune of raspberries and a couple of cows to the tune of Joan of Arc’s head tilt You were singing loudly…
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Poetry: Four Yelp Reviews by J. Bradley
Yelp Review: Boy Scout Troop 43 You will hold a flag, march through sweltering nervous systems: upper arms waggle in salute. There are patches for activities, a business card thin license to wield a knife: this is a tool for picking teeth clean, a magnifying glass to play God; the fire never answers. Yelp Review:…
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Three Poems by Robert Balun
Self (American Continuum) I wake up: and my leg hurts my achilles specifically and I wonder if the body is finally eating itself I drink old water and can never catch up it just keeps pouring I switch and ask if this is the coffee promised to us by the management during the labor dispute…
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Three Poems by Chelsea Bayouth
Heritage I am running with this package through the click-clackity of cobblestones + looking behind me as the wind blows my hair across my face + my eyes are wild + glisten + the sun is setting + I am scared and running. The city is a grind of buildings, such loud buildings that I…
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Poetry: Abigail Welhouse’s “Unavailable”
The fantasy of being completely unavailable. A desert island, maybe, or the middle of the woods. In these fantasies, there are never insects and never sunburn. The more you do, the more people ask you to do. I dream of feeding my friends. They are seated around a large table. My own table is too…
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Poetry: “November 8, 2016” by Leah Tieger
My host hands me the cast of a dinosaur’s bone. It was takenfrom the knee of an adolescent apatosauruswhich is like he says, a brontosaurus. The cast is brown, rough striations like and unlike wood, like and unlike stone. Numbers on the TV screen change red and blue. Their silent siren lights. How did you…
