Evening of October 21, 2023

warplanes roar —

between the gap

the buzz of escape

~Chittaluri Satyanarayana

The Social Contract Theory of Haunting

Haunt my other mood, Goodness.

Haunt the dark side of the pool, Moon.

Tonight ghosts desire silence played in loops,

fireflies patch a pale pigment together

midst the sink of moonlight.

Haunt my melancholy, Coffee beans, albeit

I possess no power to roast, grind or brew.

~Kushal Poddar

tapped for lines

 

i do not belong

to a recognizable

 

religious group

 

yet strongly believe

confession is important

 

when recommending a good beer.

~Geoffrey Aitken

drowning sorrow

hazelnut

in empty glass

~Richard Bailly

September 23, 2022

Campaign season:

the candidates seemed smart enough for office,

though not intelligent enough to have a real job

~Michael Ceraolo

(from a series titled September Scenes)

September 15, 2022

Out of Order:

the bureaucrat responded to the update

before he responded to the original email

~Michael Ceraolo

(from a series titled September Scenes)

compost pile

for mental health

the library

~Richard Bailly

Afternoon of October 21, 2023

 

cave painting

a woolly mammoth

in a red beam

emanating from

an overhead object

~John J. Dunphy

the comedy or tragedy question is getting harder to answer

~Patrick Sweeney

bingo cards filling up fast our unprecedented world

~Roberta Beach Jacobson

the improbable happening every day

~Patrick Sweeney

dead name the acceptance on hold

~Arvinder Kaur

the dead like you to remember their names

~Patrick Sweeney

flying in from the north witches in tornado’s path

~Roberta Beach Jacobson

she wants me to stop asking her if she's asleep

~Patrick Sweeney

sampling air quality wheelbarrow in spin cycle

~Roberta Beach Jacobson

I have failed at forms.

I have failed at tooth.

I have failed at these other forms.

I have succeeded at consequences.

~Noah Berlatsky

The Misunderstanding

So you think you found

a chink in my chastity belt,

do you? A way to weasel

your weasel in? I’m afraid

that’s simply a portal

to the underworld, Sir,

where I’ve stashed

the bones I’ve rattled

and the hearts I’ve crushed

like rusty ol’ cans of tin.
~Kelly Moyer

the tossed-away bouquet

sent by her ex

much appreciated by

pollinators

~John J. Dunphy