ROBERT JOE STOUT
Marcelino is a big man, balding, with almost invisible eyebrows on a face round like a pumpkin.
FEATURE POET: SEPTEMBER 2018
sometimes I hallucinate / a remnant of warmth / within these ashes
—he was never one for attrition—he preferred the cinematic perfection of a clean break—
CARESSES FROM HOT SUMMER WINDS TEACH ME HOW TO BREATH
She is a force of natureShe is a ball of flaming gas
CARNATIONS FOR YOUR QUOTATHE FONDEST FAREWELL
The language of satisfaction knows no infinitives
FEATURE POET: AUGUST 2018
I ignore that we are only / floating like this to forget that in the morning / we drown.
Do you see, robin? Do you grieve, robin?
The first hot dayis holy. We all were baptizedin the harsh North Atlantic;
FEATURE POET: JULY 2018
"we cannot conquer love, we can onlysurrender to it.” how many more lifetimes will it take before we learn that this is true?
LISBET BERYL WEIR
THE FOURTH OF AUGUST, TWO THOUSAND TWELVE
The dappled sunlightProvides no respite.
One by one, fuses brokenThread by thread, healed
DON'T HIDE YOUR HEART
It hurts only a whileRemembrance, yesSorrows touches
LEARNING TO LOVE A BOMB-THREAT BODYWELCOME TO MY BODY: A WAR MEMORIAL
You should’ve held my name in your mouth like a prayer.
ON BEING “THE MAGICIAN’S GIRL WHO DOES NOT FLINCH"
a sixty second summary of my eternity
FIRE WALK & REFUGEE BOY
Can you hear the bird-song call from the other side? Low and steady through the crackle of the pyre.
still I delayed before hurrying it away, an actthat seemed more akin to larceny than grace
FEATURE POET: JUNE 2018
it is tuesday. we sit behind lemon trees,hidden in our own thoughts.
there is another world, a drawing of flowersmade by a four-year-old child, the handreaching out to another
HOW BRIEFLY THE NIGHT
Will I needle and breathe hurt illumebeneath a street lamp, the way the calmreturns where something used to be?
BETWEEN THE MANGROVESPRISON WALLS
There are no walls around the prisonsbecause they are not prisons for criminals
CAROL L. DEERING
THIS VERY MOMENTTHE SAME WIND, LIGHT & RESTLESS RAIN
We crave the light, blue sky,the clouds and shadow edgeswe share
FEATURED POET: MAY 2018
Maybe growing old means loving the songs you once hated. Maybe growing old means making peace.
DICTIONARY OF DREAMS
And silence. Always silence.Or the filtered woodwinds at dawn.
We met the sea’s full majestywhen we finally arrivedat the empty Octopus tank.
SUPPLICATION & HOME & THE BODY'S HUM & SATURDAY AFTER THE END OF THE WORLD
If I open the door, the music will die.
FEATURED POET: APRIL 2018
In another life we’re on the roof of your apartment and I’m begging you not to fall to the ground like ash.
I am drunk on the Second Comingon the concave ending of my nerves
FEBRUARY: NEW + SELECT POEMSWhile pointing at the moon you said: I am an ocean full of storms, you are my salvation. Do not let the darkness swallow me.
FEATURED POET: MARCH 2018
I did not come out of the darkness,But dragged in a scrap of the light.
I ask myself.“Will I be the same then as I am now?”
ROOH AFZA & LIFE IS A GLASS OF COKEI say I am petrichor, I am the fresh perfumeIssued from cardamom thoughts
MAY, ANYWHERE BUT HERE &MIDSUMMER OFF THE COAST OF SPAIN
the wildflowers will wait for us.they will bloom as they do every yearand when we come back,
THE BIRDWATCHER'S WIFE & OTHER FAIRYTALES FOR WICKED GIRLS
You say you rescued me, and I believe you, I believe you.
THE OCEAN IS A GIRL: THE GIRL IS DROWNING
My mother said to me,once: we do not cry for the ocean.
TO MY HOMETOWN, FROM THE WINDOW OF A PLANE
And if I could compel youinto existence, you would movelike a cloud across the sky
THE WARMTH OF BURNT SAPLINGS
A few imperative fractions of yourselfhave been missing since the summer in which you turned twelve.
FEATURED POET: DECEMBER
i think i might never breathe again if i could reach for that dip in the mattress and feel your weight.
TABAKA ANN CHRISTINE
FEATURED POET: JANUARY 2018
It always astonishes me how whole days can disappear, vanishing into oblivion along with items from last week’s grocery list
THE DOG DAYS OF DESTRUCTION
Age is the only law now,gravity pulling our fleshtowards creaky wooden floors
Home as carnivore, as a thing that hungers, home as raptor, as sky full of teeth, snagged on feathers.
FEATURED POET: NOVEMBER
This requires the full attention of mercy.& If mercy exists in any life, it is exhausted.If summer has lungs, it is breathing out.
FEATURED POET: AUGUST
i say curve all light until it reaches you. fill you full. i say shadow is another form of movement. i want to shadow move with you.
what I mean is, how do you touch a lover who can’t even say your name? I had a body that felt everything and we couldn’t talk about it...