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Holly Day You can’t count on nature spirits to find babies wrapped in old sheets, by the side of the road and under the trees, gasping for their first breaths not quite alive, simply...
Submitted: February 5, 2015
Holly Day I stood over your bed and watched you sleep watched your breath come in and out of your body in ethereal waves of damp heat. I stood so close to you I could feel your warm breath...
Submitted: February 5, 2015
Robert Bates “Mark wants to beat your ass,” Julian had warned me at the beginning of the school day. More like Mark is going to beat my ass. Everyone knows I can’t fight. I sit in my seat...
Submitted: February 5, 2015
Robert Bates I’ve waited my whole life for this. It’s the state championship game and we are down by one point. I dribble past the midcourt line while the crowd is counting down the seconds...
Submitted: February 5, 2015
Peter Buckley so whisper, behind a curtain, you the baroque interior of your thoughts, the Art Deco façade, after a Gothic phase. Now I come along offering fake moustaches for us to wear,...
Submitted: February 5, 2015
The moon’s sluice gate is a phosphorescent tide pool of ambient radiance— the piecemeal illuminator of neophyte stars behind the night sky-pillow. I look to the firmament beyond a marshy...
Submitted: February 5, 2015
The hallway was a gray tunnel with a black-and-white tiled floor. The boy kept his eyes on the window at the end to keep from having to look into any of the rooms as he passed them. When he...
Submitted: February 5, 2015
John Pallister global dimension caretakers, Transcending through realities, The imaginators, The beautiful rewired creators, connecting to higher source, to steer humanity on course a...
Submitted: July 18, 2014
John Pallister Far from human; moulded as a brand, Stamped and filed; organised like beans in a can, Different variations but still served for materialistic gain, The drifter, the bad eggs...
Submitted: July 18, 2014
Glenn Fosbraey My little girl Sat beside me Tiny body taking up most of the three-seat settee The TV we’re watching makes my mind wander And formulate words, sentences, speeches, ADVICE (it...
Submitted: July 18, 2014
Glenn Fosbraey A bag for life; plastication bulge, in he checked, shatting up his chat-up to blue-suit blonde: “I’ve left my life, come to Holiday Inn,” her smile, stopped at her lips,...
Submitted: July 18, 2014
Kennita Ballard It’s called passing whitestraightfemalemale To blend in Living life as not the other But living life just To pass through Get safety from egg to sperm To the deathbed...
Submitted: July 18, 2014
Kennita Ballard We need to open our eyes Then open them wider than that We do not get the privilege To simply Be Black Flesh weeps And puddles underneath as A heritage A culture Pulse...
Submitted: July 18, 2014
Raoul Izzard Cold as the dorm was, we elected to go out into the blankness before us, before the others came back home. More than miraculous, the angels we had formed in the new fallen snow...
Submitted: July 18, 2014
Raoul Izzard Let us dig deeper into teacher lore: “Elicit what pupils do not want to know: torn postcards undated, unseen kiss and tell lips overdue on library loan, love hearts erased from...
Submitted: July 18, 2014
Stephen Philip Druce In the distant horizon, a lava latent has spewed its molten creatures in every colour, sprawling beyond the shifting precipice in its tender atrocity. To us – the...
Submitted: July 18, 2014
Sam Silva A spacey nut fell from a tree in the sky in the heat of Summer’s broiling lullaby …we nod and doze who know no other way to sow our seed. And so the brain, that bloodless rose,...
Submitted: July 18, 2014
Dick Jones The chunter of the bass, a ruminant, chewing the syllables over the heft and shuffle of the drums. A hi-hat sneeze, a pebble- dash across the snare. Eyes closed, strap-hanging in...
Submitted: July 18, 2014
Dick Jones Each one has, in perfect symmetry, paired buttocks, smooth, undimpled, gently curved. So, gender notwithstanding, there’s something here for the most exacting student of anatomy...
Submitted: July 18, 2014
Christopher Mulrooney what a flash of fame around the face magnificent the toils of ahead and not yet ended still more the yet to be ended in the distant past the shallows endured the open...
Submitted: July 18, 2014

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