BIG RAINS

I sit cross-legged in the rain
and I’m thinking things over.
Sitting until my legs go numb,
until I begin shivering, think-
ing.

Dumber than an animal, I sit.
Not smart enough to get out
of the rain. If grandma were
alive her head would be shake-
ing.

Big rains all around me and
my clothes cling to my body.
Love doesn’t come but hate
melts in the incessant bash-
ing

water. I tremble. Close my
eyes. It’s good enough for
now, I mumble internally.
I dream of life beyond love,
dream of home. Begin to s-
ing.

John Tustin’s poetry has appeared in many disparate literary journals since 2009. fritzware.com/johntustinpoetry contains links to his published poetry online.

Luna Moth  

Make your presence known, we are short of time,  
3 or 4 days at most and then you become what memories   
are made of and no longer yourself,  
and there is no coming back, this is not some stupid séance   
of rocking tables and intangible flashlight love from the beyond –  
gestation is an ugly word, I know,   
almost criminal in its embrace of the unknown,  
but I am tired of waiting around.  
This is not the same as standing in line at market.  
Get to it or forget the whole thing!  

Ryan Quinn Flanagan is a Canadian-born author residing in Elliot Lake, Ontario, Canada with his wife and many mounds of snow.  His work can be found both in print and online in such places as: Evergreen Review, The New York Quarterly, Fixator Press, In Between Hangovers, Red Fez, and The Oklahoma Review.

forethought’s lapse

cursed with a promethean liver,

a pile of numb bones in glistening flesh,
and a head spared to hang over uneasy

atop a dormant stratovolcano of fervor, he
drank daily his deluge of fire in humble clay,

much resigned to view his endless sacrifice at
the beak of a hungry vulture in eagle’s pretense,

indiscriminate to meat, fat, and anything in between

Brian (@wrdsrch) writes and sings. Recent work is featured and/or forthcoming in Thimble, FERAL, Sledgehammer, and Versification, among others. He holds a BA in Creative Writing from Susquehanna University. https://brianalvarado.com/writing.

NAMES AND DATES

In the memorial garden
At Golden Pines
A low stone wall bears plaques
With names and dates, set in a,
Shall we say,
Chronological order:
Here a plaque with a name and dates,
And then one that has been left blank,
And then more with names and dates,
Interspersed with more empty spaces,
Which we have come to see
Are saved for those of us
Who walk these woods and
Examine the wall these brisk afternoons,
Autumn crunching underfoot,
Memories of friends lighted
By a cold November sun.

Robert Demaree is the author of four book-length collections of poems, including Other
Ladders, published in 2017 by Beech River Books. He is a retired school administrator
with ties to North Carolina, Pennsylvania and New Hampshire, where he lives four
months of the year.

october poem

feeling low
i drink and drive, 
chance death for 
something more—

i dream of misplaced smiles,
but it’s no use,
they’re all gone,
they’re long gone

i drive past cars,
darkened homes,
withering gardens,
and unfamiliar streets…

at home
the lonely
bird feeders
are empty

i fill them
just to hear
the seed fall
like march rain

Tohm Bakelas is a social worker in a psychiatric hospital. He was born in New Jersey, resides there, and will die there. He is the author of 18 chapbooks and several collections of poetry, including “The Ants Crawl In Circles” (Whiskey City Press, 2022). He runs Between Shadows Press.   

45 years of Great Lakes Orthodontics

To illuminate & inform
the quality of life, we’ve 
worked very hard over 
the past several years
to implement a service-
oriented approach to 
the development of 
perimeter sites that can be 
joined to the cluster of
reference models. In 
short, this means that,
unless otherwise noted, 
you can reproduce an
interactive proximal end 
to the early filling vein 
that is much more 
convenient to exit. We’re 
looking forward to our 
continued partnership.

Mark Young’s latest book, Your order is now equipped for shipping, is due out from Sandy
Press in August. It will be available through Amazon.

Blood Stained Tents in the Wind

Another night under
my taped cardboard tent
praying in the wind

hiding from madmen
in the near city
searching the outskirts

their heavy boots
kicking and stomping
anyone already on their backs

my fists swollen
from the last maniac
now laying on the railroad tracks

shouldn’t have left him there
he didn’t know
I still have a backbone to fight

maybe they’ll find him
before the rumble
and whistle of the last train

if already dead
they’ll rob him
and light him on fire

laughing
and populating the land
with another ghost

resuming their hunt for me
not realizing sometime soon
we’ll outnumber them.

 

Stephen Jarrell Williams loves to stay up all night and write with lightning bolts until they fizzle down behind the dark horizon.  He was the editor of Dead Snakes, UFO Gigolo, and Calvary Cross.  He can be found on Twitter as papapoet.