Morning of May 21, 2023

brontosaurus

stretching into frame

a man seated

patiently reading

his newspaper

~Jerome Berglund

Screen door slams

I enter into

Summer

~Jennifer Gurney

life falls

out from under you . . .

sudden sinkhole

~Kimberly Kuchar

at the river mouth plastic mountain

~Srini

49 Cents Change

handed to me. I announced

I love multiples of seven.

She's allergic to math,

she said.

I imagine, long

division, breaking her out in fives.

Back home, my subtraction ended

abruptly, anxiety tripled.

She said, I could count on her.

~Keith Snow

ripples

in the pond . . .

I fade away

~Kimberly Kuchar

Venus

solving 

for good

through 

reverse 

engineering 

~Jerome Berglund

frozen noon. . .

the soldier's son sketches

a robin

~Bipasha Majumder (De)

I am a new man today.

Or is that tomorrow?

~Noah Berlatsky

                                               ion

                                        tat

                               evi

                           l  

table magic pay to watch

~Jerome Berglund

the storm

carries away

my voice

I ask the wizard for help

but he can't hear me

~Kimberly Kuchar

Under spring clouds

hawks circle an Exxon station

checking gas prices?

~Steve Van Allen

stagnant pond

the stench

of a dead haiku

~Kimberly Kuchar

rainy day

crunch of snail shells

under my feet

~Françoise Maurice

thriving

in the scrapyard

rejected poems

~Kimberly Kuchar

Evening of May 20, 2023

Through the window

the brick wall.

I’ll look again tomorrow.

~Noah Berlatsky

spring darkness

surrounds us

far from civilization

the heavens give way

to a pinwheel galaxy

~Christina Chin / M. R. Defibaugh

Profile


It’s spotified beneath the dirt,

the face, book laid out, skin-spread wheals,

so small, but instant gram of pain,

beneath the grime now deep ingrained,

patina, antique furniture -

poor profile, social media.

I’m now unliked, though fleas do well.

~Stephen Kingsnorth

in every mirror

a ghost

in time.

~Noah Berlatsky

morning coffee -

pressing issues

drip away

plunging us

into a new day

~Bonnie Scherer

rewriting an earlier annotation in the book I'm rereading

~Patrick Sweeney

 

the luminous face of the man who plays the kazoo

~Patrick Sweeney

 

I'm at my own atomic impasse when it comes to Feynman's bongos

~Patrick Sweeney

 

remembering the deep summer ice cream headaches of our love

~Patrick Sweeney

 

a sudden change of mind about spontaneous combustion

~Patrick Sweeney

Afternoon of May 20, 2023

An ocean of stars

sing to the skeletons

of sunken boats

~Carol Carpenter

A Church

Until we get dryer fixed we are going to laundromat. I often go early, soon after they open at six on a Sunday Morning.

Take Uber by myself, enjoy fellowship with the one or two friendly souls also there. Gospel music on the sound

system. My hour and a half or so is peaceful. No official dress code. I wear lounge pants and T Shirt. Today I feel

overdressed, I'm wearing underwear.

~Keith Snow

I’m so grateful

I woke up with a

headache this morning.

I could have woken up

dead.

~Nolcha Fox

A Bell

 
A bell excavates 

a sanctuary inside

my skull.

There I capture strains that belong to a realm without resonance

a desert where silence performs

for silence.

When I no longer thirst

I will be able to stay there,

eavesdropping on the absence of myself.

~Nicholas Klacsanzky

the new beau

her imaginary friend

sees right through him

~David Kopaska-Merkel

Little children carry guns to schools

courts carry parents to prison

society carries a heavy heart

~Peter A. Witt

jasmine evening—

the only thing

that can console me

is the loneliness

I’ve hidden away

~Nicholas Klacsanzky

End-stopped

You found yourself

with nowhere to go

up against the wall

picking off moss

and flakes of scale

floating around you.

~Dennis Herrell

Untethered

Blue, green, black

trash cans… out of line

by snow heap

~Biswajit Mishra

Watering the plants

A job I love to do

When I remember

~Jennifer Gurney

monsoon sky —

I wipe my glasses

to dream

~Debarati Sen

Fingers

When fingers have nothing to do

They do something anyway

Idleness not part of their DNA

Drumming on table top begins

In telegraph mode.

~Dennis Herrell