Afternoon of October 28, 2023


I’ve read and studied

but still I cannot fathom

how a zipper works

~James Penha



the living dead

offer me leftovers

a middle finger

all I wanted

was a Kit Kat

~Sharon Ferrante



If the Day Was a Zebra


A zebra day is no-frills simple, choices are black and white, no gray. Boundaries are defined. I

start here. You start there. I’m always a vegetarian on a zebra day. There is no latest diet fad. I

know my herd, I know where I belong on a zebra day. And mine know me. I know my enemies

on a zebra day. I know I can run or fight. I don’t need to ask my therapist what to do. I don’t

need therapy. I am what you see. Take it or leave it.

~Nolcha Fox



adrift down the stream of consciousness without a paddle

~Mark Meyer



between two slices of rye death poem

~Roberta Beach Jacobson



the bloody truth I cut myself on Occam's razor

~Mark Meyer



one footprint by the shallow grave

~Elliot Diamond



critique of pure reason a fruitful dialectic with a fruit fly

~Mark Meyer



Fleas in the morning lie dormant – rouse in afternoon autumn sun

~Julie A. Dickson



nothingness for dummies two-hundred-six pages of nada

~Mark Meyer



bargain basement clearance a mixed bag of overused emotions

~Mark Meyer



divorce final

I add more pineapple

to the pizza

~Sharon Ferrante



A Götterdämmerung Vibe

 

Look at those people. Hammering in the windows,

scaling the walls of the Capitol.”

And that noose! The one meant for Pence.”

The dude hanging from a balcony in the Senate chamber.”

The guy with the painted face and horned helmet.”

All egged on by the sore loser. Amazing.”

Twilight of the gods.”

Wagner would have killed for this story.

And by ‘Wagner’ I mean the Russian mercenaries.”

~Charles Rammelkamp



deadly nightshade


I water everything

beyond the gate


even poison

has a whisper

when it drips

~Sharon Ferrante



Outsider Art


I am a found object,

claimed at the roadside

on your journey

toward the afterlife.

What shall we create

of such good fortune

but a world

where our lonesome,

tethered souls

can, at last, be free?

~Kelly Moyer

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