• 3 poems by H.E. Casson

    @Mourning Tell us why you are sad/not sad Mad/not mad Conflicted/devastated/glad That ________ is dead (*click here for thread*)   So we can tell you why you’re wrong   It’s wrong to say You celebrate (Would you, in public, masturbate?) The dropping of a megaphone That magnified   (*buffering*)   Your suffering   To die…

  • “Black White and Blue” by Ana Gardner

            1. The first time a wooden hanger hit my thigh, I crawled into a storybook of Arabian nights, And burrowed through the pages, deep into silence and inky walls   Every story a new home       Save for two.   The tale of an ungrateful boy who out of greed killed his…

  • “Psychic Night” by Lorhenz Lacsa

    psychic night your hands have never felt skin that thinks on its own; he intended to trick time, untick the clock, put his clavicle on your lips and you knew.   when he reddened your neck by tracing its shape as if to pin a map for a land to conquer, you quivered. A flag…

  • “Anhedonis, Anhedonia” by Aïcha Martine

      ` I am tired of worrying my youth away, I am tired of being worried, I am tired You want to hold on to it, that certain lightness of being You said child, child: once it goes, never comes your way again ` Simone says “ain’t nobody perfect ’cause ain’t nobody free” Couldn’t be…

  • “ouroboros” and “we take after one another” by Alexis Diano Sikorski

      ouroboros i am reborn again &again my toes crawl up to my eyes& plunge fractals apart i am a snake eating its own tail i am eve saying yes and fucking herself silly on her fingers sibilance cries make me whole again, whole again w/ pupils blown — coming full circle . hypnotize, hypno…

  • “If you’re happy and you know it” by Nicholas Alti

    grow more hands if you’re happy and you know it become a monstrosity   If you’re happy and you know it and you really want to show it give me the skeleton of everything that’s gone extinct   give me the fossil of optimism   If you need water or will wilt and you know…

  • “A Clove Scented Winter” by Zeny May Dy Recidoro

    83. To Make Poor Paper not Flow When You Write on it.      Dip the paper in alum water.  I, Hohman, will hereafter pour a little water on the alum and moisten the paper. Then I will see whether one can write on it.                                                                From “The Long Hidden Friend”, Journal of American Folk-lore (1904)…

  • “another self-deprecating joke about my criminal record” and “Why Quit When You Can’t?” by Nicholas Alti

            Nicholas Alti writes with and about trigeminal neuralgia, depression, addiction, and an affinity for strangeness. He’s an assistant editor for fiction and poetry at The Black Warrior Review. There’s more of his work at Dream Pop Press, Hypertrophic Press, The Hunger, Pretty Owl Poetry, and elsewhere.

  • “Not on my lips anymore” by Elisabeth Horan

    Your sexual preference is the strand of spider web across my eyes this morning, Annoyed, I swipe it away; it is perfect and persistent; it laughs at my effort, yet doesn’t let go. My wanting you is for what – I don’t know – as if new clothes would make me Somehow happier – more…

  • “Burn” and “Salt Water Haibun” by Courtney LeBlanc

    BURN I sit in front of the fire, the wood so dry it pops, embers rain out, a small burn marks the rug, evidence of the offense. When I met him the spark glowed hot. How quickly I reacted, knowing to let it smolder could mean a home in flames. I don’t always do this,…

José Guadalupe Posada