Afternoon of November 27, 2022



an old wives' tale

in the tenor's breath

~Robert Witmer

jasmine soap...

grandma scrubs

her water buffalo

~Vibha Malhotra


the seed she planted his idea

~Kelly Moyer


big bang god should have called the gas company

~Jim Krotzman


winter sun mangoes from elsewhere

~Kelly Moyer

pondering his fate

the turkey and I …

he pardons me

~Bonnie J Scherer


the aurora borealis

of her eyes

where low tide used to be

~Jim Krotzman



family planning

we adopt

a more precise vocabulary

~Kelly Moyer


Loaded on coffee

beans and lattes,

he fractures his fiction,

shards puncture his lies.

A policeman pulls him over

for alphabet pollution

and no license to fly.

~Nolcha Fox


runneth over

the world's cup

~Robert Witmer

shifting shadows...

the long, lonely walk

to the outdoor toilet

~Vibha Malhotra

Pack a big bag

and forward mail

for this guilt trip.

You’ll be gone

for the rest

of your life.

~Nolcha Fox

Afternoon of November 24, 2022

swifts across the moon

oh Frida Kahlo's brows

~Adrian Bouter

scaring each other

 we freeze while he vanishes

into the wall

~A.J. Anwar


in the bus home the driver

whistles opera

~Alfred Booth

rainy day

urge to stay under the duvet

~Françoise Maurice

flying the feeling the all-seeing eye

~Mark Gilbert

speak his name not with more bullets

~Roberta Beach Jacobson

rain drops like laser

beams splatter to

crystal shards

~Wayne F. Burke

as before Neptune raining diamonds

~Roberta Beach Jacobson

Whispers to the Wall

A vagrant vacancy

whispers to the wall,

in silent proclivity

illegible scrawl

Meaningless message,

or does it preclude

a venomous vestige

most humans elude?

~Julie A. Dickson

phosphorescent snakes

in the fluorescent mist —

the pharmacist's goof

~Mark Meyer

I bite his lip

before he says something

I'll regret

~Ann Smith

Afternoon of November 21, 2022

engineer above



part icicle

~J. D. Nelson

Gran's Mason jar

the red flour beetle's

death curve

~Keith Evetts

drinkable haiku —

from notebook pages

paper cones

~Mirela Brăilean

a flea couple

went on a date

to watch a flea

love story

where they saw

flea bumps

so at home

Mr. and Mrs. Flea

fed and bred

~Madeleine Vinluan

nervous breakdown

such a long path

to her roses

~Daniel Birnbaum


my sister-in law’s

sage advice

~Kelly Moyer

as if the moon had

no memory

the unworn corset

~Kelly Moyer


you pull me so close

our ridges blend


~Shasta Hatter

as if

a caddisfly larva 

might glue up a Taj Mahal,

as if

a brown dwarf

might choose to go nova

as if

a waste dump

mated with a fetid swamp

~Richard Magahiz

the mask on the wall

its eyes unmoved

by our world

~Daniel Birnbaum

fungus where does it go

~Roberta Beach Jacobson

Lie Low

Do all survive through camouflage,

stark stand out gone, as merge preferred?

We know the smallest, best defence,

adopt their leaf or branch as tent,

just as those fleas, in hair, on leg,

all playing dead, dead cert deployed.

But my red spots are proof they lie,

lowlife, lie low, outlier soon.

~Stephen Kingsnorth

torn fishnets

i’m the one

that got away

~Kelly Moyer

the wrong way -

the wrong way?

this is the end of the world!

There's no

right or wrong anymore.

~Richard Magahiz

Afternoon of November 20, 2022

swoop four

soil ants

sun ants

rain ants

flower ants

~J. D. Nelson

all earth's dinosaurs —

even before being birds

got up, flew the coop

~Pat Geyer

scientific o’day





~J. D. Nelson

boarding with dead

raccoon, opossum, armadillo

carrion luggage

~Jim Krotzman

counting roadkill / miss the exit

~Keith Evetts

road rash  

           the wild


            of her

rainbow riders

~Kelly Moyer

Your foot

survived, but you did not.

The rest of you is missing.

A 140 degrees hot pool

didn’t like your toes,

I suppose,

and spit them up

to waiting arms.

The rest of you was yummy.

~Nolcha Fox

the corpse is burning...

         but still;

smell of jasmine

~Kamrun Nahar

dinner bell

the last

of the hog races

~Kelly Moyer

flowery orange pekoe

scalding liters

in my silent


~J. D. Nelson

Morning of November 20, 2022

cockroaches, the vanishing act


maggots all in good health


he stands with houseleeks in his palms and collarbone

~Richard Magahiz

restless spirits lifting your phone charger

~Kelly Moyer

November crow and I resigned

~Keith Evetts

one dream dead

another floundering

Chernobyl rain

~Anna Cates


only the flower garden left

and only half a flower

the war

~Anna Cates

       dark, cold painful dawn

line at emergency dental clinic

~Steve Van Allen

the tickman garners all the headlines

~Richard Magahiz

snow blossoms another version of myself

~Kelly Moyer

time is eternity cut into pieces