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Yum Yum Time by Elisabeth Horan
Hello shattered baby. Lie down – and come, I want to be free with you – I want to be something new for you – to be your new pet. I’m so fun: you drinking / me drinking fun. I want our party to be the kind they love – they covet our things, our…
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Tarotscope for Pisces Season Featuring the Five of Wands by Kailey Tedesco
Dearests, Tread lightly, but with purpose. Everything we need is all around us. This season is for healing, but healing may be the furthest thing from our minds right now. How can one heal when there is only the flood of pain oiling our basins, coloring the waters in which we attempt to bathe.…
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Four Poems by Noelia Young
Listen in on a private reading by Noelia Young, a slam poet based in Fayetteville, Arkansas. Her poetry discusses important themes: racism, wisdom, growth, and survival. Time stamps for each poem: “To My Racist Friend” 00:29 “Advice To My College Self” 03:38 “Lulla-bye” 7:01 “Me Too” 10:34
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Arsenic Hour: my middle aged women troubles by Elisabeth Horan
This is the debut of Elisabeth Horan’s column, Arsenic Hour. Here is its namesake poem. Here comes a bad one. Pearled teeth, gnarled hands, knife fingers, bomb breasts, snake limbs, tortoise pelvis, wolf anus, pronghorn genitals. Here comes the malfeasance. Ivory ban, fingernail grind, tusked cheeks, flat bill palette, five toes times five…
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We who are lost; Mmm, Nope; Neurotic Lullaby by Elisabeth Horan
Three poems by contributor Elisabeth Horan We who are lost Find each other in warehouses Too late sometimes, it’s in graveyards. Always emaciated, dumpster diving for attention Overweight on alcohol anorexic acceptance rates like High school anxiety shave the head try on personalities We who find each other and save some last…
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Manifestos: A Prose Poem by Wes Bishop
“Who runs the world?” I ask because I have complaints. The little man tells me the box for such things is down the hall. I stumble, clutching my manifestos. If only the masses would read these typed blueprints for utopia then the world would work, because I am a mechanic for reality! I get to…
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LILITH: PERCHED IN SILENCE by Moriah M. Mylod
In my dreams we were in Charleston imagining apparitions and clowns I wonder how we could devise plans to become ghosts together in a tourist town to scare off kids and lovers alike And seeing how they still wanted us around even The devil horned The pale-blue eyed The predatorial smiles The dirty skinned …
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Capitalism, Oswald’s day out, Silence by Shivangi Goel
Three poems by contributor Shivangi Goel. Capitalism We made the world we live in, And we have to make it over. Baldwin says to me, over Tea on couch across generations Of whispers of learnings snuffled Across ink and what confluence Would have it that only this voice reaches, It doesn’t lie, doesn’t exaggerate…
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And I Loved Them by Elisabeth Horan
A poem by contributor Elisabeth Horan. Is it my turn to use them? I asked, in doe-eyed chin up hopefulness – Not yet, replied father-fuhrer. Maybe tomorrow. I never really got a chance to play with them – they were under lock and key behind the rum, above the crackers …
José Guadalupe Posada
