Afternoon of November 8, 2023


aches and pains

the subtle differences

between snowflakes

~Robert Witmer



always that one guy asleep on the train

folded in half

~Kathy Watts



Frosted


You think you are a chocolate cake you frosted for dessert. You think your sweet talk more than pays for all the times

I paid your bills and offered you free rent. You expect me to pay the tab when we go out to eat. You never leave a tip. I

have a tip for you, my dear. You are just a frosted flake, and you’re not worth the milk to flush you down my throat and

out the other end.

~Nolcha Fox



a bonbon

on my lifeline

time will tell

~Robert Witmer



odds and ends

the grotesque handles

on the coffin of my dreams

~Robert Witmer



I Don’t Understand


Explain to me this transition from life to death, this nakedness of being between a last sip of coffee and a chiseled

stiff in a coffin, soon to be forgotten. Perhaps this is a last split millisecond to practice the fine art of nothing, a last

whoop where we swing over a chasm of whitewater before we fall. We fall. Without understanding.

~Nolcha Fox



a stranded salmon

its mouth opens and closes

the fear of speaking out

~Wanda Amos



inside

the huge fish

his wife's ring

~David C. Kopaska-Merkel



limp chocolate dashboard rundown

~David C. Kopaska-Merkel



skeleton dance

his bony hands

creep lower

~David C. Kopaska-Merkel



long skeletal branch

stretches deep into autumn woods

swallowed in darkness

~Steve Van Allen



millions of sperm

seeking one egg

new moon

~Wanda Amos



Today I am perfect

For I have done nothing but lie in bed

~Sam Kilkenny



too deep for crows feet

must be

ravens feet

~Kathy Watts



my life

moving into the slow lane…

my smart car

commends me

for my eco driving

~Wanda Amos



vector analysis

a misplaced mosquito

in the palm of my hand

~Robert Witmer

Morning of November 5, 2023

 

  gentle breeze blows

cold upon my neck–

stepping through a ghost

~Jennifer Gurney



under garage door

is guy trapped half-in

or half-out

~Roberta Beach Jacobson



the song was sung long ago

the echo still remains

of voices faint and far off

I do not know the words

~Ann Christine Tabaka



searching for your heart in the hayloft

~Patricia Hawkhead



trembling time wound tight enough to show, don’t tell

~Mark Gilbert



two in the morning

I am awake

I must write


three in the afternoon

I am drained

the ink ran dry

~Ann Christine Tabaka



glistening temptation

I drink from the source

with cupped hands

my muse

played by an actress

~Mark Gilbert



the trees are barren–

reminding me

of me

~Jennifer Gurney


Boredom

 

The man,

bored with

life, drooped like

a wilting flower

unwatered and left to dry out

on a windowsill, blinds drawn in lunar eclipse.

~Steve Gerson



Autumn, will you stop?

The leaves fall; the clock turns back.

But the leaves still fall.

~Noah Berlatsky



superhero


fly in

give the presentation

take questions

have a beer

fly out

~Mark Gilbert



clouds stately & silent

my migraine

squirming & slithery

~Mark Gilbert

Our Pushcart Prize Nominations for Poetry

Pushcart Prize Poetry Nominations

from Five Fleas Itchy Poetry (Poems published during 2023)


I’m a Mural by Jay Passer

 

Baby DalĂ­ by Kelly Moyer

 

Fairy Tales by Gabriel Bates


Sing Gone by Nolcha Fox


49 Cents Change by Keith Snow


Untitled (first line at least two years) by Patrick Sweeney