À / propos of / the philosopher’s stone

The number of people living in
cities continues to increase, esp-
ecially since le clown Grock a fait
rire le monde entier. Never under-
estimate the power of a twisty
tiny top! We’ve already agreed
on 17 goals. We are now an urban
planet with a high percentage of

wood flour, & incessant noise knock-
ing at the gate. Mainly from street
sport — graffiti, hopscotch, parkour,
rollerblading — but also mayhem,
queued up waiting to emerge as
a central trope of modern culture.

Mark Young was born in Aotearoa / New Zealand but now lives in a small town in North
Queensland in Australia. He is the author of more than sixty books, the most recent of which
is with the slow-paced turtle replaced by a fast fish, published by Sandy Press in May, 2023.
A free downloadable pdf of visuals & poems, Mercator Projected, will be published by Half
Day Moon Press later this year.

Phase 3

Dockyard green, more rupture
than relic; green scars
cracking concrete, green fists
punching back the tide.
Even six feet down
an embankment of mud
green roots fester
and cling. The fouled salt
of the river only serves
to toughen their grip:
the tide washes green
downriver, quicklimed
to the sea
where I cups it in my hands,
my face a green mirror;
baptising new eyes
a darker shade of dream.

Ian Mullins bales out from Liverpool, England. Collections include Laughter In The Shape Of A Guitar (UB, 2015). Almost Human (Original Plus, 2017), Masks and Shadows (Wordcatcher, 2019), Take A Deep Breath (Dempsey & Windle, 2020) and Dirty Sweet (Anxiety Press, 2023).

An Autumn Sonata

for a summer through smoked glass,
darkly, all the empty lawn chairs,
deserted chaise loungers, blackened
cooking pits, wrought iron rusting amid
scattered ashes; all the metal hoops
of the abandoned croquet court:
wooden mallets, striped balls, painted
stakes signifying the end and the smell
of low tide by the Sound. Mother's last
cigarettes still burning in a glass ash tray,
the dead floating in Styrofoam coffee
cupping dregs, milk scum and spent
stick matches; the smoking, matched sets
of horse hair recliner chairs, canvas covered
gliders and rattan end tables on the screened-
in, against the elements, porch; all the black
holes of the frayed oriental throw rugs,
generations old, the scattered piles of
living room leaves, burning refuse, cracked
sticks and wadded newspapers, Sunday sections
and all the other days of the week kindling
for the lasting fire of her days and nights
here, working on a new classic repertoire
for two hands, piano with sprung wires
and disconnected pedals, broken chopsticks for
that infernal night, when smoke gets in your eyes.

Alan Catlin has been publishing in the small presses, littles and university magazines since the 70’s which, basically, just makes him old.  His next book is How Will the Heart Endure from Kelsay Books about the life and times of Diane Arbus.

Hera

Ashamed.
Your desire
is my humiliation.
Weighted by this anchor,
drowning in the cross-currents,
I profess no needs of my own;
I live in blind obedience,
delving inward to escape.

Sarah Daly is an American writer whose work has appeared in twelve literary journals including Umbrella Factory Magazine, Synchronized Chaos, The Olivetree Review, Blue Lake Review, and elsewhere.

Fate Is Fate, Mate

Huxley’s Four-Tenths of a Gram
… from Study Room…
to Mind-Voyager… the Path
is Serpentine and Flexible
… we never Emerge from
Chapters the Same as on Entry.
Slipshod… as long as Results
can Speak for Themselves…
I barely ‘Scratched The Surface’,
and couldn’t Scattergun, even
Loosely, without… Succeeding.
Carson McCullers, FAMOUS
for her Southern Gothic…
appeared to me as I was coming
around from Surgery in 2022
at Derriford Hospital, and said
“You haven’t kissed ‘Her’ yet
… your Changing has begun…
opening wide like a Jeobseon.”
I pothole ‘Reality’, when Alone,
I do not ‘Dwell’ or ‘Stagnate’,
you just Can’t… after Returning
from those Doorways… Brighter.

Paul Tristram is a widely published Welsh writer who deals in the Lowlife, Outsider, and Outlaw genres.  He wrote his first poem as a teenager following his release from the (Infamous) Borstal ‘HMP Portland’, and he has been creating Literary Terrorism ever since.

Box Inaugural

This isn’t the box
I was in
When I closed my eyes
Or, maybe
But from the outside now
Inside was constricting
Concluding
I admit, also apprehensive
I mean, not the box
But I
Now, still “I”
Eyes open
Affixed on box – outside
Aware, unbound
Beginning
Now is the time
To see what’s next
To turn around

MH Clay lives and works in Dallas, Texas. He has a poetry page at
https://madswirl.com/author/mhclay/. His poetry chapbook, Perhaps This Rain, was
published in 2007 with a second edition released in 2010. He has published two poetry
collections, sonoffred, Rebel Poetry in Ireland, 2015 and Angst, Mad Swirl Press, 2016
with a second edition released in 2022.

Early September Poem

drizzle everything outside wet
yes, welcomed by many
too dry for a month or two
now a few brown leaves curl up in their exile
cornflake wet
those leaves slippery to the foot
the car window beaded with drops
sky gray
enough light to still inspire the day forward
instead of going in
shutting one's self
in the computer
all the news THEY want you to see
too limiting that mode of thought
better to get a little wet
to glory in the hibiscus
beautiful orange on a gray day
the grass early September green
the mind filled with its own drizzle
and it whets the appetite
for life
still on the branch
green
though the season's change is coming
the fire of reminiscence will light
the shorter days ahead

Dan Cuddy is currently an editor of the Loch Raven Review. Recently he has had poems published in the End of 83, Broadkill Review, , the Pangolin Review, Madness Muse Press, Horror Sleaze Trash, the Rats’s Ass Review, Roanoke Review, the Amethyst Review, Synchronized Chaos and, Gargoyle.