Afternoon of April 19, 2024



 

 

 

 

change of clothes —

every year it's a month earlier

~Maurizio Brancaleoni




Caravaggio!

The power’s out again.”

Who cares?

I’ve got a candle

and a job lot

of black paint.”

~Tony Dawson



birthdays

those Facebook friends

long dead

~Roberta Beach Jacobson



a slave desires freedom

a caged bird dreams of a heaven

~Fhen M.



to exercise free press

is never a given

~Fhen M.



one weaves a silken flag

to freely wave it is another thing

~Fhen M.



Stormy nights

At mid-morgue and

My shaky legs outside

crawling to closet.

But where is the threshold?

~Partha Sarkar



With acute poverty the poor —

The priceless commodities

In an election-

The democratic business

Without knowing why.

~Partha Sarkar



sailing into port wine

~Roberta Beach Jacobson



Nuggets in ketchup blood

Burger from a killed pig

The grill is working at full capacity

Scorching the planet

~Mykyta Ryzhykh



The ultimate loneliness of death

A cat runs across the road at a red traffic light

~Mykyta Ryzhykh



the mouse ate the sun instead of cheese

glass grew instead of grass

rusty skeletons of snowflakes warm the remains of a nuclear power plant

~Mykyta Ryzhykh



shopping centre

a customer queueing

behind the mannequins

~Tuyet Van Do



fashion show

the model wears

an upside-down dress

~Tuyet Van Do



each morning

a 30% chance

of something

~Roberta Beach Jacobson



the sack  brown bag days

~Adrian Bouter



you flee

or you stay

flea

~Adrian Bouter


Morning of April 19, 2024



western medicine

padlocking

my ankle to the grave

~Kelly Moyer



rain-drenched milkweed

the prayer

that plummets into the ether

~Kelly Moyer



slow love

tilling

the worm dirt

~Kelly Moyer



diagnoses:  everything but the kitchen sink of her bones

~Kelly Moyer



country road

a swallowtail lights

on the edge of oblivion

~Kelly Moyer



transmigration

the dead poet's

fresh set of eyes

~Kelly Moyer



fasting casting

aside the black cloak

of worldly wants

~James Penha



garbed in ego’s shroud

its tombstone on his head—

spinning with atoms

~James Penha



dance love music

poetry

circle perfection

~James Penha


with your head

on my chest

I can hear

through your skull


the sound

of you chewing

the chips

I bought you

~Noah Berlatsky



quality self-help

exploring your nether spork

authentic upgrade

~Noah Berlatsky



the light

in the school chapel:

stained

~Stephen Toft



a lawn sprinkler

cooling

this sultry night

~Stephen Toft



snow bones

the old sheepdog

rounding up ghosts

~Stephen Toft



one day i hope

to see again the blue

i once saw on

the Hawaiian shirt

of a man drowned at sea

~Stephen Toft



cloudless sky

the acrobat

looks through me

~Stephen Toft

Afternoon of April 16, 2024


Earth on a

stack of turtles

then more turtles

~David C. Kopaska-Merkel




life

clue

war

sorry

indoor recess

~Jennifer Gurney




for you darling

would I divide

by zero forever

~Richard Magahiz




visitation over

he removes his wife's wedding ring

before closing the coffin

~John J. Dunphy




footsteps

out of synch with mine

we both start to run

~David C. Kopaska-Merkel




Fearsome predators

A shark subsisting on abandoned dreams

The orange mold that grows on the face you no longer wear

A hookworm that sucks the joys of forgotten days

Pale mysterious bears craving unrecognized sacrifice

Scorpions drawn to any unmet potential

~Richard Magahiz




my hands

how many nanometers

to your moon?

~David C. Kopaska-Merkel




jewelled knees elbows that beat kicks in

~Richard Magahiz




such a relief

when the key

fits the lock

~Jennifer Gurney




312th floor:

window walls squeegee

themselves

~Richard Magahiz




9 lives, 20 naps a day

sounds like a good plan

~Jay Passer




boomerangs

act just like some mail

return to sender

~Chris Collins




low to high

inch marks on the wall

empty nest

~Kavita Ratna




bird shadow flew

   through me and a lizard

she dove under a log

   I was only mildly disturbed

~Steve Van Allen




the bodies hang out tin signs     quetzal birds swoop past

~Richard Magahiz




pavement

returns to lime and sand

wordlessly birds call

~David C. Kopaska-Merkel