Rotation around an axis brings out the best in scalawags since Justice’s reach can’t otherwise touch janky persons or their kin. Accordingly, when sizing garapa for doghouses, cabin interiors, Also luxurious kitchen floors, it’s best to disregard frivolities like Pyrographically-inscribed poppies, puppies, wildebeest designs. In homes or industrial uses, planks mean “structure,” “durability,” “Low maintenance.”… Read More Poppies and Other Frivolities ~ poetry by KJ Hannah Greenberg

Yuan Changming  published monographs on translation before leaving his native country. Currently, Yuan edits Poetry Pacific with Allen Qing Yuan in Vancouver, Canada. Credits include ten Pushcart nominations, eight chapbooks,  and publications in Best of the Best Canadian Poetry (2008-17) and BestNewPoemsOnline, among others. Show Yuan some love via PayPal at magyuans(at)gmail(dot)com.

Alas and a muchness, whether Iran’s ayatollahs, Europe’s Nazis, or stupid heads running Washington, world rulers remain awfully derelict; they’re compromising Eretz Yisrael. Yet, Guyana, Comoros, relatively, have “barely frightening” comportment per pallid leaders’ Intelligence (global ophidians generally forget about justice and countenance suffering.) Transnational kingmakers’ choices won’t forsake hatred. Their penchants cull outmoded, Misguided… Read More Responding to the Scions of Anti-Semitism ~ poetry by KJ Hannah Greenberg

CHAMPIONS  NEW SAME GIN JACK HEALTH SPORT Go You’re Way Now   PAT MASTER became an early maker of ready-made clothes – it’s make your body glad   LOVE & QUEST Chrono 7 romantic character soft rich pleasure constant use daily pleasure   Quarter century The Pre-Miracle Years 1957-1965 The Wonderful Adventure Trough The World… Read More Sweatshirt Haiku ~ poetry by bart plantenga

Around foreign towns, all mutts begin to bark en masse. Seen beside a lazy, plumed lizard asleep and hazy, sunning on a bare, flat rock such musicality unsettles; and thus mirrors qua Hermes’ baleful caution: Let’s not relent! Scalped by psyche’s past or divers ill fortune, how decipher such a black-swan, wan event? Populaces dimly… Read More Male Sperm Counts Are Falling All Across the Western World ~ poetry by R. J. Keeler

so green is the leaf clinging steadfast to its branch it defies classification even by the wind that wishes only to call it sail I have known wasps rail and sting merely because I happened across their flight paths the sea does not cease for me on anyone— immortal heart even though I can’t breathe… Read More Grief Rhymes with Yellow ~ poetry by Lana Hechtman Ayers

Author’s note: “When I was a school bus driver, I was motivated to write this by two ten-year-old boys who rode on my bus. They shared their story with me about seeing two girls who attracted their attention over the weekend at a shopping mall. Grammar and spelling idiosyncrasies are the boys’ doing.” The author… Read More A-Hoot A-Hoot Sexy X-E ~ poetry by Bowser

DEAR ZOMBIE LAUREN, I, acknowledging yr existence An unknown percentile O’ present day Mutation of civilian Reptile mute-deafened civilization Through differing dialect Between bandit and breather Of paint red evenings out Woman about town Full familiar laughter Gullets full fodder A movable feast Supply and demand of the resource Pack rabid; feral Craze-brained fundamentalists With… Read More Dear Zombie Lauren ~ poetry by Kristopher William Locke

1. A constant stream of entertainment requires that my organs stand at attention even my spleen 2. My bartender used to line up my empties on the bar to sucker newcomers into playing pool against me 3. In my youth I chose rationality over irrationality because I was terrified of my mental illness I eventually… Read More Standing Spleen ~ poetry by Mitchell Krockmalnik Grabois

MAILER DAEMON dead letter regret if never sent re: gret if said too much to much too little grow as narcissi  blind echo  deaf centrifugation of tongue calibration of tone concertation of two 1 win come twin come seek the conjoinal scars we share Michael A. Griffith began writing poetry after a disability-causing accident. His… Read More Message ~ poetry by Michael A. Griffith

I really miss Patrick Swayze. I heard that song on the radio and thought of him again and again and it played every time I drove and I missed him more and more and then I saw that he didn’t actually sing it. It’s Eric Carmen’s voice but that didn’t change how much I miss… Read More [I really miss Patrick Swayze] ~ poetry by Christina M. Rau

“Remember this?” I inquire, holding up the indistinct plaything, a dog, maybe. “You used to take this around with you everywhere, you always had it.” I don’t know why I say it. I think it’s a test. I observe the blank gaze change to recognition as she takes the toy, turns it over and over… Read More Memoir of Another World ~ poetry by Holly Day

I warned you darts with advice strong words tripping over emotions like an imbecile– so you think you’re Leonard Cohen loving some naked Nancy in a cluttered matchbox apartment overlooking European culture simulated, above some obscure narrow Montreal street? For your information, straight poetics from insanities Almanac, Leonard Cohen died years ago in a twisted… Read More Unknown Poet from Rue Montpelier ~ poetry by Michael Lee Johnson

February 14, observed in honor of St. Valentine, a martyr of the third century, beheaded in Rome. —Random House Dictionary Dismemberment of a junked disk harrow proceeds evenly and eventlessly. The earth of Lincoln County petitions lithe, dank, midmorning fog to settle low. The fog is dense and, like a just-washed shroud, droops to raw… Read More On the Earth of Lincoln County, Washington, on Saint Valentine’s Day, 1993 ~ poetry by R. J. Keeler

Poem made from movie lines spoken by actor Laird Cregar, who died in 1944 at age 31 Mr. Samuel Laird Cregar Eventide Section, Lot 37, Space 2 Forest Lawn Memorial Park Dearest Haunter: You’re a pretty cocky fella. You’ve had your own way for a long time. Oh, I know your type. Your act is… Read More Love Letter to My Favorite Ghost ~ poetry by Pamela Miller

Maternal Instinct Swearing is brave. That’s just my opinion. My mother didn’t like it. She didn’t like shit! or other filth Dad passed on. It would have been brave of her to one day leave the kitchen and turn to say if you don’t like it don’t eat it, damn it! You fuckin’ gluttons– you cook it.  Be brave when things boil, save leftovers for me.  I’ll be on the town, so suck it. But she’d never say that, and we did act like such morons. Not swearing, she was still brave, being a mom and trying to like it.   obituary for a credit card they called you Visa but I called you Lover 16-digit magic man you fed me when your dirty brother debit card deserted me someone stole your heart abused you down to negative 399 dollars I went years without you wheezing powerless but you came back to me a polyvinyl boomerang with me now my rectangular amour but I give pieces of you away till you are near zero but still I keep you at my butt cheek pressed and arched when I squat desperately for pennies I extract you from my wallet with your pulsing hologram hawk your plasticity and potential so stoic erect so plumped to take my wishful charge then you expired– a crib death in my wallet… Read More Three Poems ~ poetry by Marc Darnell