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

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