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Feathers of Doom Littering the Ground - by

After Being Examined Again - by

Becoming (from memory and a Hocąk tale) - by

Sacramental Agnostic, Mr Christian - by

Meeting Me There Later - by

Another time and place where we might belong - by

Brian Obiri-Asare

Nightlines - by

Christopher Kelen

How to be an Alpha Male - by

David Stavanger

A Temple For You. - by

David Stavanger

The Horror - by

David Stavanger

Diaries of the World - by

Selworthy Beacon - by

Extra Virgin - by

Moab - by

Heather Taylor Johnson

The Last Word - by

Heather Taylor Johnson

Local bus from Tampere to Helsinki - by

Splintered Viking Boat Song - by

Living with Sieve - by

Theater of the Void - by

What to Eat When Someone Dies - by

March Heatwave - by

The River Night - by

The Gap in the Trees - by

The Book Says - by

On Living Tomorrow - by

Atom - by

From Crossing Two Rivers - by

Mark Prendergast

Virus - by

turkey vulture quiz - by

What Do Our Bathrooms Do After We Leave? - by

Shriram Sivaramakrishnan

In The Navy - by

Work Series - by

Begging Bowls - by

ABM (All Bout Money) - by

Victoria Bladen

On the Loch - by

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Poems

Feathers of Doom Littering the Ground

The leaves of the birch tree where crows build their nests were electrified and magnetized.— I saw a surge of ghostly bodies. I saw fireflies glimpse like small eyes of rats. I saw feathers dropping like bombs, littering the ground. I saw wings surge and flutter, ashen and apocalyptical. I saw cremated images, portraits, indeed. [...]

Poems

After Being Examined Again

that’s enough now I’ve had if there is standing in front of mirrors only here there is breathing in and holding the way skin breathes lift that leg thoughtless wait here and read this I would questionless bury my head [...]

Poems

Becoming (from memory and a Hocąk tale)

some futile thing that can’t be secured (attention or a plastic toy – does it matter?) he slams his bedroom door stands for a long moment before the goldfish bowl and knocks (a part of him, split off, will call it an accident, knowing it isn’t) the food container into the water – their small [...]

Poems

Sacramental Agnostic, Mr Christian

I arrive by way of mutiny. As second to the self’s captaincy I amend a creed in this squall. Slops of Councils wash from the tarred deck. This briny world is a fictive place I’ve never been outside a tale of grizzled tropes that signify fidelity of a kind, or otherwise. Everything’s [...]