Carol Louise Moon

Wind All that is beautiful,deer in the worldand meadows, too.There was a birdwho flew only onceand then no more.Winds that sweepthrough the channel—the same windsthat keep birds airborne—winds which form sandstonesculptures. I know of thesewinds which form sandstone,that keep birds airborne.The same windsthrough the channel—winds that sweep,and then no more.Who flew only once?There was a […]

Steve Denehan

Doubled OverFor Auntie Ellen Childhood would have been halvedwithout herin the velvet dark of the cinemaperched on the edge of our seatsfistfuls of popcorn frozen in the airas we watched, unblinkingsmall aliensenormous explosionscars chasingbuildings fallingtwice, if we wanted to she would take us to Burgerland on O’Connell Streetlong since goneand we would gorge on milkshakes […]

Abeiku Arhin Tsiwah

—Of God’s Twitter Handle. //Brother, you’ve submerged yourself from heaven’s gawking of your name. Breathing a song here. Writing a verse there. Throwing your weight after drone survey and every lesson learnt after downloading a portrait of yourself from the internet.  Heaven is calling you from the rigorous pulsation of your mother’s hefty heart beats. Today […]

Adrian Slonaker

Foot Rubs Rub us!Her pale toes wiggle ashe grips each one withproper respect, never slipping a digitbetween them because those spaces arethe mouths of the feet,and he wouldn’t want them to gag.The massages have been guaranteed each evening,once her keys collapse on the counterand her flats are flung off, for two decades bookended bystudent ramen […]

Julie Sampson

Solstice This process of decayquickens, the heart beatcomes too close, too close. You tell me on the phoneyour patient has died, at last,you heard his final breath, folded his wrinkled handsholding on, not letting go. Here, paint flakes, doorsrefuse to shut, windows warpand out through cracked glass pinks and white-rose petalsphotosynthesise, then fall in shreds. […]

Luke Kuzmish

lamb of god Kaity has lipstick on her teethjust an imperfectionthat I don’t mention there’s a baby faced kidkissing a train wreck stolen on her cheekbetween total ignoranceof the present. Her coughis hoarseand her life is measuredin hard yearsfreebase yearsshoplifting yearsand time in between jail sentencesfamily interventionsand maternal disappointments & then there’s BrandonI’ll miss him […]

Paul Lojeski

hospital visit I long for the high cliff above a battering sea, the long fast drop in slashing winds, the howl of exit quickly made, not cemented into these beds, vacant eyes locked into sharp lights, a mob of IVs jammed into emaciated arms, truth rough handled,contorted by white coated messengersdelivering death’smissives, reports ofthe body’s […]

Len Kuntz

The Next One Did he kiss you first?What were his hands doing?Were the lights dim or bright?Did he notice one eye is bigger,one tooth slightly longer?Were there splotches?Did your air catch, your chest clutch?Did many freckles dance?How much time was allotted for staring?What scents did he notice?Did he ask, “Have you ever…?”Did he ask, “What […]

Andrew Dooley

Bio Andrew Dooley is a graduate of Rhode Island College with a BA in English/Creative Writing. He has a self-published collection of poetry titled Shine Walker, and his first published poem titled “flicker”, can be found in Visitant Lit Magazine.

Dr. Susie Gharib

Release Death was omnipresent in my childhood.It had claimed many dear ones, my dog,but it took Catherine and Heathcliff on the Yorkshire moorsto make me ponder over the metaphysical coreof such inevitability that most people abhor. Emily Dickinson drove with Death in a carriagebut in an oven Sylvia Plath held her rendezvous.Virginia Woolf embraced it […]