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David Radavich We need to grieve a while. For everything we are and have been, dark reality of our fantasies that all too frightening come to life. Someone makes money from our fears. It’s...
Submitted: January 8, 2013
David Radavich So many streets have vanished, signs stolen by vandals or turned around, north and south confused into up and down, yesterday or tomorrow, my best friend’s face has melted,...
Submitted: January 8, 2013
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Sergio Ortiz birthday morning…. I no longer care for this old love of death the cold angel whose ruin I learn to accept Tagged: Issue One, poetry, Sergio Ortiz, winter 2013
Submitted: January 8, 2013
Joan Mazza Square pasta pillows filled with ricotta, mozzarella, and flecks of parsley, sealed and bound with a beaten egg, boiled until they float, rolling over each other until tender,...
Submitted: January 8, 2013
Joan Mazza I tell myself every morning. Don’t think too much. Don’t expect to make sense. Start with an image or a phrase that’s bumping your forehead. Grab it by the smallest thread and...
Submitted: January 8, 2013
Michalia Arathimos Why don’t you pay attention? You are too cheap. The air keeps on moving into you anyway. This is the way the world has of touching you, even when you are looking...
Submitted: January 8, 2013
Michalia Arathimos This eye has lost itself. This one will sit next to me. This glass of wine explains my eye’s absence. Now we revolve around the grand circle describing such fascinating...
Submitted: January 8, 2013

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