Evening of May 15, 2023


when you left

I was outside

shattered—pulling

shards of glass

from my feet

~Sharon Ferrante



Zumba

getting the feet right

my hands go wrong

~Rupa Anand



Looking up I see

Brilliant full moon shining bright

That explains a lot

~Jennifer Gurney



summer heat

granny’s rocking chair

still creaks

~Sharon Ferrante



Brushing my teeth I

Wonder what the tooth fairy

Is doing right now

~Jennifer Gurney



late night

a drainpipe bent

from shimmying

~John Pappas



bourbon

water croutons

stirred not shaken

~Linda L Ludwig



declassified as a planet the maple seed takes root

~John Pappas

 

 

null hypothesis H0 model train

~Roberta Beach Jacobson



not prepared to give up buffet guests

~Roberta Beach Jacobson



feeling leafless the anxiety of alphabets

~John Pappas



patchy fog

the gaps

in her alibi

~Andrew Markowski



Welled Eyes


As if in consolation the sun cautiously appears over the hill and shines on the twisted beds,

abandoned trees, and old appliances the floods scatter in the muck which was once the yard.

The water in a hush slowly trickles under the twisted remnants of the dwelling house.

~Dennis Williams



another school shooting a movie in his mind

~John Pappas



I drown

become a barnacle

stuck now

~Sharon Ferrante


Afternoon on May 15, 2023

 

space opera

the rise and fall

of our diaphragms

~Jenn Ryan-Jauregui



fear of falling - once more

i cross that wooden bridge

of my childhood

~Wanda Amos



I won't

have

been

in my present

future

back then…

~Richard Magahiz



Gen X Birthday Haiku


Let this feeble poem

mark the day I should have died

thirty years ago.

~Chad Parenteau



hospice bed —

I check to see

if ma is still breathing

~Debarati Sen



full moon

mixing more white

into the indigo

~Wai Mei Wong



progress bar — the stormfront must rebuild

~Richard Magahiz



sleeping pills —

for her dreams were

a safer place

~Debarati Sen



slicing through

glass-slick dark

schools of bananafish

~Richard Magahiz



tapping

on my kindle

a grasshopper

~Daipayan Nair



Death Dressed up in a Mardi Gras Mask

 

Death seems to lurk around every dark hidden corner this week,

like a thief in black wearing a creepy mardi gras mask,

waiting for his chance to steal the last breath of my stepfather,

and wave his trophy of Oscar gold,

having already proved his swiping prowess,

by taking the last breath of Philip Hoffman,

with his poison needle.

~Deby Cedars



scratching his mosquito bites

my neighbor tells me about

last night's meteor shower

~John J. Dunphy



office party —

she identifies with the

corner plant

~Debarati Sen


Morning of May 12, 2023

 

at least   two years

of my      formal education

spent      watching

a gray     squirrel

going      up and down

a beige   sycamore tree

~Patrick Sweeney



expanding my vocabulary

through osmosis

I nap

while resting my head resting on

a dictionary

~John J. Dunphy



over a calcined stream

a ruined bridge

nuclear umbrella

~Robert Witmer



a sudden rain

hissing over the desert

snake eggs

~Robert Witmer



egg moon —

a wart on my foot

starts to itch

~Mona Bedi



in the May rains two worms flex their elbows

~Patrick Sweeney



spring wind this wish to be a cloud

~Mona Bedi



the train that left without you separation moon

~Mona Bedi



radioactive waste where the poet ate the flesh of sei whale

~Patrick Sweeney



mice

wheeling halos

gold man sacks

~Robert Witmer



the do re mi

of an orange tree

reggae sundown

~Robert Witmer



the poet's garret

filling with shadows

a fly in a pickle jar

~Robert Witmer



squeezing a tomato he considers a friend

~Joseph P. Wechselberger

 

 

exploring alternatives to the real world dreams

~Joseph P. Wechselberger



a moth

sees itself

dancing on the wall

she snuffs the candle

and cries

~Robert Witmer



AI


She fingers her phone,

Flummoxed,

App-lessly disconnected,

Phonemes phoning home,

Hopelessly phony,

Pigments

In figments

Of our minds.

~Robert Witmer



Yoga


Your center

a round hole,

square body

jammed in.

~Chad Parenteau



deepening autumn

I rewrite

my death poem

~Mona Bedi



hazy moon

the blank space

on the Mother’s Day card

~Wai Mei Wong