Afternoon of November 29, 2024

 

Handiwork

~Kelly Moyer and Hunter Sauvage




the roar of traffic

rushing by

platelets in the bloodstream

~Melissa Dennison




                                recovery

                                e                                 

                                l

                                a

                                p

                                s

                               recovery

                                           e   

                                           l

                                           a

                                           p

                                           s

                                           e                                              

~John J. Dunphy




Problems to face

In a gilded cage

The moment hidden

~Sarah Mahina Calvello




Watching cityscapes

Fade back into stardust

Tell me why

~Sarah Mahina Calvello




Don’t be afraid

To be a stiletto

In a room of flats

~Sarah Mahina Calvello




Coffee gone cold

Where did all the hope

Run off to?

~Sarah Mahina Calvello




the frog

won’t vanish in

my mind

~Noah Berlatsky





hide and seek

        the shadows charm

an elfish moon

~Elliot Diamond




only planet tending to rise from the west the Venus

~Tejendra Sherchan




fingers don't know how not to love your hair

~Mykyta Ryzhykh




Shrieks cut the night__

Forest silent in respect

Even the trees know

~Beth Ramos




globe warming another new year in the gasp of twelve gongs

~Rashmi VeSa




what ifs and why nots ribboned road

~Rashmi VeSa




defining

her shelf life…

the matrimonial column

~Rashmi VeSa




picking one more bone of contention sidewalk crows

~Rashmi VeSa




Brushing Aside the Curtain


Let's look at this another way, he said,

It's not which side of the mirror is real,

but which you'd prefer to inhabit,

and who you have to kill to stay there.

That's when I knew:

I'd go out with him again,

I'd trust him with my dog,

I'd let him drink my blood,

but I could see by the third drink,

I'd never be good enough for him.

~David C. Kopaska-Merkel




the dead sign on

radio clears its

low-bandwidth throat

~David C. Kopaska-Merkel




Happiness—

a butterfly’s journey

crushes in seconds

~Patricia Carragon




heavy rain

seven blackbirds on a wire

melt into black puddles

~Steve Van Allen




desperate fly

lands on my burger

it is november

and i can understand

the desire to just hang on

but, fly,

you made a bad decision

so did i

now i have a crushed fly

embedded in my bun

~Tom Blessing




coffee shop drive thru

three ravens wait beside the window

for their treats

~Tom Blessing




silent meditation

the dog looks at me

and whimpers

~Tom Blessing

Afternoon of November 28, 2024

 

 

 

the sound

of November-December

whoosh

~Jennifer Gurney




endless

stratus

clouds

rolling

in

worry

about

my

root

canal

~Joshua St. Claire




fate

of the dandelion

growing out of rocks

~Tejendra Sherchan




high tea

Vivaldi plays through the cracks

in the universe

~Joshua St. Claire




tattered trainers

the secrets

you could tell

~Melissa Dennison




the egg moon

I will boil and share it

with eight billions

~Tejendra Sherchan




not yet returned all the stolen hearts

~Tejendra Sherchan




the smoker moth

~Tejendra Sherchan




Why


why did you choose me, my soul

why did you choose me to live

~Marie Derley




In The Time of Corporate Plague


water and light

now company owned

people figuratively and literally

being daily deboned

murmurs of time

ache to be heard

no calm in the mirrors

all the lines blurred

silent mental erosion

of blind civil obedience

~dan smith




Zombies Flee the Scene

 

hearses!

foiled again!

undead get away

~John H. Dromey




nothingness

the universe

bang

~Jennifer Gurney




big bang —

the hole punch

spills its contents

~Helen Buckingham




Folksong

after Else Lasker-Schüler

 

The wild wind knows

it’s the sky’s favorite child.

Its curls are sun-yellow,

its intentions are mild.

 

Each day is a day.

My parents are gone.

The wind plays on their graves.

It sings them no song.

~Noah Berlatsky




gone gone gone —

the black cat’s shadow

on the grass

~Pris Campbell




the new Oz show

is carried on the backs

of snake oil salesmen

into the While House.

on cue, the audience applauds.

~Pris Campbell




saying her piece

the booyah

across seven seas

~A.J. Anwar



haiku

the extent

of her bio

~A.J. Anwar




childhood Santa photos

I finally find one where

I'm not crying

~John J. Dunphy




luminous glyphs

scrolling down

his firm midsection

~Richard Magahiz




in his later years

Adam's

cider addiction

~Richard Magahiz




herbaceous border

a sign to

curb your dragon

~Richard Magahiz




holes chewed through old holes:    hyperspace worms    

~Richard Magahiz




in 30s gangster movies

nobody practices

personal space

~Patrick Sweeney




he was learning to play what wasn't there

~Patrick Sweeney




yielding to the futility of helping an autumn fly escape

~Patrick Sweeney




resisting the ideological cul de sac

and the personification

of hurricanes

~Patrick Sweeney




Lose the way

to home?

Ask cul-de-sac.

~Partha Sarkar




You mean to tell me this is how you intend spending your time on Earth?

~Patrick Sweeney




best not to mention the extra-dimensional deer paths that run behind the house

~Patrick Sweeney

 


Afternoon of November 20, 2024

providence

the unblinking eye

of the algorithm

~words and image by Kelly Moyer

 

 

once upon a time

we didn’t know

it was a construct

~words and image by Kelly Moyer

 

 









conquering

half of the world

an empty hand!

~Tejendra Sherchan




a dream

never-ending ancient heritages

of Buddhism

~Tejendra Sherchan




children

dance to the music

of bubbles

~Bette Hopper




eating the night air my skin goes porous

~Vijay Prasad




endless lies

the pattern

of misogyny

~Jennifer Gurney




missing moon

the stories I weave

about your absence

~Mona Bedi




when small things matter the jagged edge of a broken tooth

~Mona Bedi




A Bee's Lament


I have neither beehive

nor Bob.

~S. T. Eleu




girls' lunch

we chew the fat

from our diagnoses

~Kelly Moyer




Spam Mail

another auto-generated message

from God

~Kelly Moyer

 


Evening of November 12, 2024

 


all the killing

we hit nine billion

anyway

~David C. Kopaska-Merkel




home of origin

our long-lost cat’s short return

for goodbyes

~A.J. Anwar




late night call

talking absentmindedly

in the present tense

~John Hawkhead




mascara tears

the only way is down

that same dark track

~John Hawkhead




paying cash

the weight

of change

~Joseph P. Wechselberger




the wounded pine weeps and the wind seems to know the woodpecker's intent

~Joseph P. Wechselberger




chill wind lapping water where my footprints are

~Joseph P. Wechselberger



melting hieroglyphs pointing out all my friends at risk

~Alan Summers




mother trees the saplings sugar-warn politicians

~Alan Summers




freedom the bedroom of democracy

~Keith Snow




default settings deferring to men

~Julie Bloss Kelsey




choosing the bear Goldilocks

~Julie Bloss Kelsey




given the choice between heartburn and micro-fractures

~Patrick Sweeney




bring me back to when Curly's mind was a blank

~Patrick Sweeney




all others the aliens

~Tejendra Sherchan




thinking in future perfect tense election day

~John Pappas




surveillance state all power to the peephole

~John Pappas




spitting out the ice cube something in my eye

~Mark Gilbert




in the wheelchair / free of blemishes / free of hair

~Mark Gilbert




sweeping generalisations under the carpet

~Mark Gilbert




new moon deciding if we dare

~John Pappas




sprinting for the train

something called

melting cheese

~Mark Gilbert




morning after election

my neighbor's flagpole

~bare

~John J. Dunphy




The Past


The three-letter word God, the five-letter

word night, the night in which I remain

offshore, the glass I stand in

the herringbone vest I button

the high room from which I go down

the door into a place where day and night are one.

~Peter Mladinic

 

Morning of November 9, 2024

 

 

ON A HOT SUMMER’S DAY IN THE CITY

 

Women look out

from upper floor

tenement windows,

elbows resting

on the sills,

eye-bags lolling

on their cheek-tops.

~John Grey



 

hero's journey

at least there's no line

for the loo

~Kelly Moyer



 

ground glass

the future as divined

by my crystal ball

~Kelly Moyer



 

wrinkly pumpkin

past its prime

election day

~Kimberly Kuchar



Recrudescence

 

...and he's back.

~Kimberly Kuchar


 

 

rustling leaves

i sow

my own seed sound

~Kelly Moyer




rolled oats awakening to the daily quaker message

~Kelly Moyer



GRIMM

 

In a fairy tale,

a giant rat devours a princess

and a prince’s eyes are blinded

by a witch’s claw.

The story frightens some kids,

enlightens others.

~John Grey




QUANDARIES

 

The first time

I ever got close to a butterfly

I didn’t know

whether to squash it between my fingers

or gasp, “How beautiful.”

 

Destroy or cherish?

Intervene or let be?

Quandaries come upon us all the time.

This is one of the more common ones.

~John Grey




lovers' embrace

the intimacy

in duck and cover

~Kelly Moyer




lodged in her gullet

a lone

kernel of truth

~Kelly Moyer




checking my carotids nature or nurture

~dan smith




solving

for y

lost love

~Kelly Moyer




the stealth

with which i inhabit this body

ninja skills

~Kelly Moyer




MOTHERHOOD FOR A MALE POET

 

Today,

I gave birth

to eight poems,

five naturally,

three by C-section.

Most were recently conceived

but one was kicking in my womb

for years.

~John Grey

 

 

 

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