Category: Poetry
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Counterstrike and other poems by William Ogden Haynes
Counter Strike If we had chosen a dark granite, the whole episode might have gone unnoticed,
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In Love, On Fire… by Brittney Bullock
I was afraid the love would come over me and char my flesh like the acrid kiss of fire, turn my skin a new, more true black, blacker than when I was born and you would see this and be left feeling responsible, so I turned you away for the night, claimed the shelter was…
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‘along the happenstance of thought’ by phillipe chatelain
along the happenstance of thought do thoughts drown while asleep like a shark in place! the light doesn’t reach them completely. they float
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III. It wants more to be glad…by G. Mramor
I can already feel your disgusting inside. It grows and makes me grow. But still I am a little thing you say. And because I am a little thing I cannot hold you back and not even my disgusting makes you sad. Because you are a part of me now like I was part of…
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II. Like beating the scarecrow by the lake…by G. Mramor
I cannot sleep, I will not wake. Through the walls I hear the beating. Like hitting something empty, like hitting something stiff: like beating the scarecrow by the lake. And then the water comes. It bunches the glass and stops my bleeding, like the tree now gone who blocked the water. Then I will be…
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I. This is what you say…by G. Mramor
Nothing you say is thrown aside, but thrown inside. Thrown inside to settle in with all the other things you have said and done. Thrown to scatter and create. To grow a sapling and then a tree until there is nothing but forest in me. Let nothing die and no one live. This is what…
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Serious Question (If I Had a Heart) by Carmen Guzmán
Carmen Guzmán is a writer from Puerto Rico living in Boston. By day: a Boston University alumnae of the film and television program who blogs and shoots videos for a non-profit. By night:an expediter at a restaurant in Cambridge who enjoys a good whiskey. In her head: another story. How Many Cups Of Coffee Does…
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Hannah Lejter “Infatuation=Alienation”
planes my body is here but my soul is on a plane out of here. i look down at white sands and imagine i’m flying over clouds. i turn away from the sun so the wings of my arms won’t burn. the seatbelt sign is always on. my lover wears no seatbelt. he’s on no…
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El Dorado and Other Poems by Jim Davis
JIM DAVIS is a graduate of Knox College and an MFA candidate at Northwestern University. Jim lives, writes, and paints in Chicago, where he reads for TriQuarterly and edits the North Chicago Review. His work has appeared in Seneca Review, Adroit Journal, Sheepshead Review, New Plains Review, Whitefish Review, The Café Review, and Contemporary American…
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Fireworks in the Afternoon…by B. Bullock
I hate to love to be reminded of you, you carting around those fragile flowers in those trembling teenage hands, fingernails cruelly cut and soiled like you’d been off digging in some foreign country’s hot volcanic sand, smiling wearily at my wild hair, the surprise in my eyes, fighting a flinch at my sneezes spreading…
