Afternoon of January 7, 2024

straight-arming the dashboard: a life spent bracing for impact

~Patrick Sweeney

paper snowflakes without knowing why climate change

~John Pappas

eyes without cataracts;

naked,

afraid,

vulnerable,

ugly

face without glasses.

~Suzanne S. Austin-Hill

a poem

with a mind of its own

digital citizen

~Roberta Beach Jacobson

the crowds now appear / loudly clamoring to see / all of my etchings

~Charles A. Perrone

Grief Is a Mother

She flips me upside down

and slaps me on the rump

until I stop breathing

and start crying.

~Nolcha Fox

bombs away in a manger

~John Pappas

the fifth finger on my hand

pretends to be torn off

~Mykyta Ryzhykh

postcolonial firing the western canon

~John Pappas

in deep waters: the blue whale of faith

~Patrick Sweeney

from dawn to dusk sunflower mechanics

~John Pappas

cat cute cut out ou oh o zero

~Mykyta Ryzhykh

I used to write long letters with a knife-sharpened pencil

~Patrick Sweeney

late fall—

a plastic parachutist

in the rain gutter

~John Pappas

by falling down

I see the wildflowers

much better

~Luke Levi

homecoming

under her collarbone

diving swallows

~John Pappas

winter night

the taste of no

strawberries

~John Pappas

The world’s best dental floss —

your hair.

~Oliver Kleyer

another growl

my right ear pressed against

the dentist's stomach

~John J. Dunphy

new year’s day

fresh strings on

an old guitar

~John Pappas

distant thunder

he orders more

toe tags

~John Pappas

Somebody’s reading

Night Train to Lisbon on the

morning bus to Rendsburg.

~Oliver Kleyer

that part of himself always pivoting as if to make a break for it

~Patrick Sweeney

new moon the clickclickclick of the delete key

~John Pappas

the constant intrusions of the ordinary

~Patrick Sweeney