They say
Absurdism is dead,
but I swear
I saw him swimming
in a rain puddle
ten years into
a
seven-year drought.
~Kelly Moyer
opening the curtains
November
closing
the curtains
~Keith Evetts
a wasp dies
in my glass of cranberry
first of November
~Françoise Maurice
mother’s intuition
over
maxwell house coffee
and all the fixings
and toasted
cinnamon raisin bread
sagging under heaps of no salt butter
i
knew i was dying she
said bluntly
as she sawed a piece of toast in half
like a
butcher attacking a carcass
~Jeffrey Spahr-Summers
a
sandglass –
grains
of wisdom
in
Ravel’s Bolero
~Diana Teneva
stuffing
the turkey
with uncertainty …
family
reunion
~Bonnie J Scherer
red
wine
the autumn leaves stagger
in the wind
~Françoise Maurice
a
van Gogh sky one helicopter
~Joseph
P. Wechselberger
domination
the length of her lashes
~Kelly Moyer
crushing
the clouds into the sunshine
~Mircea
Moldovan
rainbows
the DNA of unicorns
~Joseph P. Wechselberger
you are more than enough
ink
on the roller
~Kelly Moyer
suburban street
a naked neighbour flings a gnome
through
the glazed front door
~Keith Evetts
accomplice
he shoves a rusty crowbar into my hands
i
want you to climb up on the roof
tear
up some of the shingles
make
it look like storm damage
he
guides me to the battered
aluminum ladder leaning against the
house
hurry before a neighbor sees you
~Jeffrey Spahr-Summers
whatever you are
I fear
from the last one
full moon
so
I'm going to sleep
with the first empty dandelion
~Mircea Moldovan
this is where
I came in
...
through
kafenio's
doors
~Michael Kingdom-Hockings
tongue of crow
an itch the witch
can't
reach
~Chad Lee Robinson
juxtaposition
the
leaps
of
her lemur
~Kelly Moyer
bonfire
that
day i torched all the poetry
i was a sick but determined man
i
was looking for liberation like
the great bra burners of the
60s
in pajama bottoms at high noon
i dragged out the olive
trash can
gathered up 29 years of poems
every one i could
lay hands on
doused them with liquid starter
struck a match
and tossed it in
~Jeffrey Spahr-Summers
godless month
dissolved in rain
wounded
civilian
~Anna Cates
modernity
mistaking the chimera
for
a paper doll
~Kelly Moyer
refugee camp
in the crook of her arm
rag
doll
~Anna Cates
After the Rain
We sit alone across the table,
unable to account for the storm
driving through our lives like tourists
slowing to
point at the sight of us.
~Jeffrey Spahr-Summers
cookie jar
nothing is beyond the reach
of
ants
~Sankara Jayanth
ant
+ ant = two
~Roberta Beach Jacobson
doorbell...
i get back to the dinner table
to find an ant
occupying
my chair
~Sankara Jayanth
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