Imbongi, praise singer, passions’ planter, ancestors’ defender, Reciter of penetrating poetry (divulging familial interactions), Reteller of histories, commentator on community affairs, she Dares pronounce the ineffable. During ceremonial activities, or else thru “important” episodes, Outrageous statements, critical rhetoric, and indelicate remarks, That gnarled woman remains protected by champions, dreaded, Revered as her revelations. Ancient wisdom… Read More Griot ~ poetry by KJ Hannah Greenberg

[in]transpiring: a psychosomatic [re-]glitch[ing] Ami J. Sanghvi (he/they) is a non-binary, Indian-American, queer author, artist, designer, boxer, Eric Hoffer Book Award finalist, and recent graduate from the California Institute of the Arts Creative Writing M.F.A. program (concentration: image/text). He is a fiction editor for Decolonial Passage, poetry editor for Wrongdoing Magazine, staff writer for Chaotic Merge, and photographer for AsianZine, as… Read More [in]transpiring: a psychosomatic [re-]glitch[ing] ~ graphic poetry by Ami J. Sanghvi

Perhaps I should soften like April light on the hardy plants  that is my attempt at creating a metaphor out of my dad  and I can do better than that but poets are sometimes arseholes.  Perhaps I should learn from the condensation in a bouquet  and understand that cut down carnations in their prime have… Read More My dad wants to meet for coffee again ~ poetry by Antony Owen

don’t go in the horse ring too soon the horse might kick you                    or step on you if a horse’s foot is stepped on by a boy that’s something          about God a first sexual mistake e.g. or a too-hard yank on a… Read More *cotton candy* ~ poetry by Jamie Spenser

Prey No air in the cafe and my Coke melting quick and that guy staring hot from behind and to my right, reminding me of the campground with friends, the day hot and moonlight barely cooler, me full of Yukon Jack, walking alone back from the bathroom, not drunk enough for squatting in shrubs, hoping… Read More Three Poems ~ poetry by Kerry Trautman

There is clear jelly agar oozing from me after the sex, which I try to mop up with socks from my backpack A guy in his late 60s (early 70s?) and his wife The super-old hot guy comes in on his way to the en-suite, says to me: My wife asked me to tell you… Read More Sex Dream ~ poetry by Syreeta Muir

Thlok when drunk.Thlok for deer.Thlok for you to fail.Thlok when you can’t thlok.Thlok chips on the poker table. Thlok your name being called. Thlok falls down.Thlok shut up.Thlok talk about their children.Thlok hard work. Thlok jolt a finger. Thlok beer poured into a glass. Thlok guitar pedal. Thlok your partner. Thlok caw.Thlok you have no interest in. Thlok two packs a day. Thlok typing with mitts. Thlok silent manner.Thlok urinate. Thlok wind machine. Thlok monster. Thlok opinion without listening. Thlok fast asleep. Thlok two big sticks.  Thlok fish swims away. Thlok across the street.Thlok thawing snow in spring.Thlok thoughts during sex.Thlok man mansplaining thlok.… Read More Thlok ~ poetry by James Croal Jackson

Nonideological dialect contains dreams, habits, intuition, moreoverThe construction of private/public meaning; few nonexperts embrace Make-believe’s robustness derived from lexes’ haunting resonances. Consequently, meditation of integrity’s assembly arguments intimate  Human interactions in the categorizing of heuristics, gets sacrificedWhile reifying virtuous agreement arrays, equally apples’ acridness. Popular, western epistemic fact/value divisions, suggest exclusivity Versus aesthetics/ techniques, not disparate from conflict literature,(Can’t always contribute solutions or patch up spider-free bananas.) Compared with nontraditional ingredients, forms… Read More The Fruitfulness of Communication’s Moral Component ~ poetry by KJ Hannah Greenberg

Skimming Sideways When you reach that magic agewhen no player picks the magnesium trickfrom your sandwich, you’re wont toexhale red notches, the kind mountaingoats rejuvenate when they wash up inForge Village.  Disgruntled cherry pickers, notwithstanding,if you have never smoked a dobro guitar, ordwelt in the doldrums of twin religions,Go ahead and cancel your contract, they’ll… Read More Three poems ~ poetry by Frank William Finney

Around a felt-top table in Al’s faux-walnut-paneled breezeway, a small group in northwest Iowa — farmers, bookkeepers, stay-at-home moms — gathers for a game of Texas Hold ‘em.  Though Bicycles are dealt to each player, it’s the booze and the tobacco, a little weed and a little speed that are the true calling cards. priorities… Read More Game Night ~ poetry by Julie Allyn Johnson

Letter to Bernadette Mayer March 13th, 2020 I’m drunk and in the dream of how things get written. Not eating   running at least three miles a day, water and some good rye from out east of Salt Lake  tides me over. I have been fostering this idea where I send you some money soon… Read More Letter to Bernadette Mayer ~ poetry by Andrew Romanelli

AUTHOR’S NOTE: These are found poems for which I used the January 2020 issue of O Magazine as my source material. For each poem, I would start with a word or short phrase, then move forward until I found a new word or phrase that joined it in an interesting way, and keep going until I had… Read More Three poems ~ poetry by Marilyn Cavicchia

4, the tendons of the foot, sinew stretched taut as rubber bands, cat gut. 4 is also an exposed thigh bone, close to an (n), horizontal and lateral lines on a map of a body flayed open for investigation. 4(e), a silent scream, or a smile, a sarcastic smirk, a laugh aborted. Two teeth missing,… Read More On Paper ~ poetry by Holly Day

Multihyphenate With a swish, he departed the foyer, a small trail of rhinestones witnessing his farewell (coordinating the seemingly incommensurate, like making friends, never worried him.) Most tenders of criticism on his projects fell away, wordlessly (any limits imposed Were for others’ work, least he neglect the surrounding conditions of his genius’ foci.) Essential fights… Read More Two Poems ~ poetry by KJ Hannah Greenberg

1. Absorption I’ve spent decades bioaccumulating PCBs, manganese, & especially organophosphate pesticides —my mother and I both l0ved apples. All us kids on the block followed the mosquito trucks on our Schwinns & Huffys breathing malathion and tHermal oils then for dinner potatoes, spinach strawberries doused with repeated chemical washes and now my nerve signals… Read More If I seem distracted, I’m working on my party trick ~ poetry by Lisa Bledsoe

All the pictures on my account are at least five years old. If your pictures aren’t recent don’t bother matching. About me: My kids don’t speak to me and I avoid my neighbors as much as they avoid me. I watch ten hours of television a day and I’m banned from commenting on most news… Read More Tinder Swipe Left ~ poetry by John Tustin