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

 

 

 

Buy our merch:

https://www.zazzle.com/store/five_fleas

Afternoon of November 4, 2024

 

 

internet out(r)age

~petro c.k.

Dirty streets,

Looking for a savior

Shadowed nights

~Sarah Mahina Calvello

why do

you continue

to serve

overripe

undercooked

apologies?

~Keith Snow

off-strip motel

the flutter

of tattered curtains

~M. R. Pelletier

minivans

we haul more ass

than we used to

~M. R. Pelletier

Gen X'ed

all my punk friends

are dead

I sold out

by staying

alive

~petro c.k.

persona non grata

after

light

the

spots

still

visible

on

a

lantern

fly’s

wings

~Anthony Lusardi

carapace

cicada killer—

my summer youth

my fear of death

buzzing along this highway

until i reach the shoreline

~Anthony Lusardi

as election heats up the podium melts

~Roberta Beach Jacobson

election night

our bottle of champagne

unopened

~John J. Dunphy

barricades protecting voters from voters

~Roberta Beach Jacobson

morning after election

the ballroom's ceiling balloons

unreleased

~John J. Dunphy