two snails
if they race each other
it doesn’t show
~Daniel Birnbaum
the cockroach
what we think of each other
perhaps the same
~Daniel Birnbaum
the
tangerine
perhaps the last to call me
from childhood
~Daniel Birnbaum
raindrops are spitting
on the book where I’m writing
this now-wet haiku
~Jennifer Gurney
a door that never opens
sealed forever
by a family of spiders
~Steve Van Allen
early
morning quake
deep sea 7.4—
the cradle does rock
~James
Penha
I write this poem
composed by my shower mind
wrapped in a towel
~Jennifer Gurney
Barbie movie
sex bomb goes off
only egos injured
~Adele Evershed
second summer
finding mildew
in all my cracks
~Adele Evershed
scathing review
I pretend my poetry
was written by AI
~Adele Evershed
counting on the spiritual procrastination of the good thief
~Patrick Sweeney
stillness even when there are no deer on the trail
~Patrick Sweeney
who I was when I first tasted a ginger snap
~Patrick Sweeney
the pain of passing petoskey stones
~Adele Evershed
resting my elbow again on the tiger's back
~Patrick Sweeney
she told me I should be searching for shovel-tusked mastodons instead of snow fleas
~Patrick Sweeney
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