They
say
Absurdism
is dead,
but
I swear
I
saw him swimming
in
a rain puddle
ten
years into
a
seven-year drought.
~Kelly
Moyer
opening
the curtains
November
closing
the curtains
~Keith
Evetts
a
wasp dies
in my glass of cranberry
first of November
~Françoise Maurice
mother’s
intuition
over
maxwell house coffee
and all the fixings
and toasted
cinnamon raisin bread
sagging under heaps of no salt butter
i
knew i was dying she
said bluntly
as she sawed a piece of toast in half
like a
butcher attacking a carcass
~Jeffrey
Spahr-Summers
a
sandglass –
grains
of wisdom
in
Ravel’s Bolero
~Diana
Teneva
stuffing
the turkey
with
uncertainty …
family
reunion
~Bonnie
J Scherer
red
wine
the autumn leaves stagger
in the wind
~Françoise
Maurice
a
van Gogh sky one helicopter
~Joseph
P. Wechselberger
domination
the length of her lashes
~Kelly
Moyer
crushing
the clouds into the sunshine
~Mircea
Moldovan
rainbows
the DNA of unicorns
~Joseph P. Wechselberger
you
are more than enough
ink
on the roller
~Kelly
Moyer
suburban
street
a
naked neighbour flings a gnome
through
the glazed front door
~Keith
Evetts
accomplice
he
shoves a rusty crowbar into my hands
i
want you to climb up on the roof
tear
up some of the shingles
make
it look like storm damage
he
guides me to the battered
aluminum ladder leaning against the
house
hurry
before a neighbor sees you
~Jeffrey
Spahr-Summers
whatever
you are
I
fear
from
the last one
full
moon
so
I'm
going to sleep
with
the first empty dandelion
~Mircea
Moldovan
this
is where
I
came in
...
through
kafenio's
doors
~Michael
Kingdom-Hockings
tongue
of crow
an
itch the witch
can't
reach
~Chad
Lee Robinson
juxtaposition
the
leaps
of
her lemur
~Kelly
Moyer
bonfire
that
day i torched all the poetry
i was a sick but determined man
i
was looking for liberation like
the great bra burners of the
60s
in pajama bottoms at high noon
i dragged out the olive
trash can
gathered up 29 years of poems
every one i could
lay hands on
doused them with liquid starter
struck a match
and tossed it in
~Jeffrey
Spahr-Summers
godless
month
dissolved
in rain
wounded
civilian
~Anna
Cates
modernity
mistaking
the chimera
for
a paper doll
~Kelly
Moyer
refugee
camp
in
the crook of her arm
rag
doll
~Anna
Cates
After
the Rain
We
sit alone across the table,
unable to account for the
storm
driving through our lives like tourists
slowing to
point at the sight of us.
~Jeffrey
Spahr-Summers
cookie
jar
nothing
is beyond the reach
of
ants
~Sankara
Jayanth
ant
+ ant = two
~Roberta
Beach Jacobson
doorbell...
i
get back to the dinner table
to
find an ant
occupying
my chair
~Sankara
Jayanth
