Afternoon of September 29, 2022

double espresso

we trade our faith

for turtlenecks

~Kelly Moyer

My muse

is gone, she left a note

that she went shopping

with the girls.

I hope I didn’t send her

on another bender.

My writing might be much worse

than I think.

~Nolcha Fox

Fourth of July

On this, most patriotic night,

my head is clear,

my vision full

of Roman candles

and crackling rain.

I play Hendrix.

I breathe smoke and gunpowder.

We turn the moon the color of flames.

~Lauren Scharhag

not the clouds

time passing -

the moon

~Chittaluri Satyanarayana

       don’t talk about

until starts to show


~Jerome Berglund


For a price,

chef’s secret ingredient

will do away

with anybody.

So scrub the kitchen floor

all you want,

a murder scene

never dies.

~Roberta Beach Jacobson

I found a spaceship

in the toilet,

floating with a deck

of cards.

I laid them all out

on the couch

then dried them with

this poem.

~Nolcha Fox

kismet a galaxy of fruit flies

~Kelly Moyer

trying not to

step on toes

clown shoes

~Thomas Tilton

we're all waiting

wondering when Mother Earth

spanks us

~Stephen Jarrell Williams

Afternoon of September 27, 2022

semaphore signs of little progress

~John Hawkhead

trade winds of small change

~John Hawkhead

can't settle ...

restless leg syndrome

the ants nest in my bed

~Karen Harvey

they are special guests


right to the bone

~Richard Magahiz

wall poster

a big face

with no manifesto

~Daipayan Nair

carrying signs

we oppose whatever

we oppose

~Roberta Beach Jacobson

dream state of the nation

~John Hawkhead


May Day parade

calicos in tanks

~Roberta Beach Jacobson

erratic path a satellite state

~John Hawkhead

Evening of September 26, 2022

once in a blue mo(o)nster

~Lorelyn De la Cruz Arevalo

walk at dusk

the same stranger

at every turn

~Arvinder Kaur

30 years dead

Still haunting the same places

~Steve Van Allen

frosted pumpkins

an abandoned home groans

with trespassers

~Anna Cates






~Richard Magahiz

reaching out

to window ledge


~Roberta Beach Jacobson

poems about war

bleed from my pen

I thought

Vietnam was the only one

to break my heart - silly me

~Pris Campbell


I am haunted by hallways. If you were to pop open

my skull, you’d find an endless maze of gray nowhere

corridors. I am inhabited by lobbies and tunnels,

airport terminals and empty shopping malls. It’s a

common fear. We are unsettled by these perpetual threshold

places, where we stand hesitating, never becoming, never arriving,

because there is no thread, no way out of this labyrinth, and at

the center of ourselves is the beast we have to face, or not.

~Lauren Scharhag

       the circles

of condensation

       on underside of glass table

harder to wipe away —

wherefore art thou royal

~Jerome Berglund

The Moon Doesn’t Ask

why I’m here in the halls of midnight.

It recognizes kinfolk, someone who knows

what it’s like to always be on the downward slope

of the teeter-totter. We are both made of other people’s secrets. To soothe others

we had to be this collection of debris,

not born, but bezoars excreted from

unimaginable creatures.

~Lauren Scharhag

A Few Martinis

over drinks

she spills

her drink

over drinks

he spills

state secrets

~Roberta Beach Jacobson

no-tell motel

keeping their secrets


~Thomas Tilton

Afternoon of September 25, 2022

Basho's frog cut apart in English class

~petro c.k.

ink-splattered roughnecks

one-legged poets

at crane school

~Richard Magahiz

two sand fleas

hop onto my beach towel . .

itchy and scratchy

~Karen Harvey

in ancient Egypt

fleas were worshiped

(not really)

~Roberta Beach Jacobson


I booped

a Boops boops

(B. boops)

Boop boop!


Boops boops



~petro c.k.

the monkey climbs

the mulberry tree

pop goes the purple

~Robert Witmer

Nitty Nora

the scalp explorer ...

our school nurse

~Karen Harvey

dental chair

all the answers

I want to give

~Daipayan Nair

Morning of September 23, 2022

full disclosure

what resides beneath

the lampshade

~Kelly Moyer

person, ghost, light

who is the common ancestor

~Kyle Hemmings

cancun honeymoon

they become savants

of selfies

~Kyle Hemmings

demolishing sand castles, day's order

~Mircea Moldovan

a hole in the prairie dog moon

~Robert Witmer

sawdust protected our torsos

from the treacherous sun with its tusks

remember, dearest,


you eyes were actual aquamarines;

poetry knows the secrets bumblebees conceal

~Richard Magahiz

alcohol swab

I narrate

my hobbies

~Daipayan Nair


not long before

the ship sinks

~Daya Bhat

fast rap

grandma’s lullaby

gets a makeover

~Daya Bhat


I clap

to kill

~Daipayan Nair


fly’s short lifespan

even shorter

~Roberta Beach Jacobson

my blood the horsefly laps it up

~Mark Gilbert

Afternoon of September 21, 2022

you were meant

to sing and dance and love 

you fools

~Herb Tate

Paul Newman Looks for a Job

Behind the eight ball,

queuing for a job,

hairdresser for the bald,

the cranially compromised,

gleaming in the fluorescent light,

a hustler with blue eyes

whistles Dixie to a waitress

with purple peepers,

while George C. Scott

sends goslings to the front.

~Robert Witmer

long story short

those guys did have

a vengeful god

~Richard Magahiz

      fibbing ‘bout clean sheets

haven’t washed ‘em never will

      line of succession

~Jerome Berglund

mountain cairn

the quest for validation

of a name

~Keith Evetts

existential crisis

you have

one new notification

~Kelly Moyer

the new fascism of the brain

taking control of my voice 

until I am only an echo

~Kyle Hemmings

Evening of September 20, 2022

chameleon party

no one knows

who’s who

~Daya Bhat

my garden lexicon











~Debbie Strange

and but so

then by which why 


~Herb Tate

on a high mountain

looking for fish

hooting, with laughter

~Herb Tate

aquarium music

fish mouthing

the words

~Roberta Beach Jacobson

a bumblebee pollinates you

in your sleep, you wake up

alone again 

~Kyle Hemmings

Afternoon of September 20, 2022

cobalt horizon

in a cosmonaut’s helmet

the buzz

~Anna Cates

fourth dimension

tethered to the taxi

moon and i

~Daya Bhat

waxing under the moon starlet

~Roberta Beach Jacobson

moon migrants

we run out of

cherry soda

~Kyle Hemmings

meteor sizzling

above the bog—

night fall

full of frogs,

strange foreboding

~Anna Cates

in dreams still stirring

even taking flight—


~Anna Cates

wedding date

countdown to the clash

of planets

~Daya Bhat