Poetry.

Capitulation will be tomorrow’s song by Mark Young

Capitulation will be tomorrow’s song

Halfway through the movie, the
voice track shifts into Spanish,
the soundtrack becomes a caca-
phony of Panzer tanks while
images of them intermittently
appear that have little relevance
to the storyline. Then birds sur-
face on the windowsill, ballet
dancers replace the shots of
Panzers, & Shostakovich’s Jazz
Suite, Waltz No. 2 rolls out from
the wings to roll over & de-
molish the threatening tanks.



Mark Young’s most recent books, all published this year, are the downloadable pdf, The Hit List,
published by Scud Editions; Gravel (with harry k stammer & Mark Cunningham), from Sandy
Press; Some Unrecorded Voyages of Vasco da Gama, from Otoliths; another downloadable
pdf, Closed Environment, from Neo-Mimeo Editions; & The Complete Post Person Poems, also
from Sandy Press.

The Temple of Sleep by Luis Cuauhtémoc Berriozábal 

The Temple of Sleep
 
Sunday, I rest
my bones. I ask
forgiveness 
for my idleness.
I close my doors 
and wake up late.
I let nothing make
my plan fall apart.
 
I become dust,
a cadaver, in
the temple of sleep.
The air outside
tries to make noise.
I do not let it in.
I doze away.  I put
the anchor down
and do not budge.
 
I am indebted 
to the temple of
sleep on Sundays,
where no amount 
of money is enough
to drag me out of
bed. Every second
of every dream is
a reward I can never
earn from hard work.



Luis was born in Mexico, lives in California, and works in the mental health field in Los Angeles. His latest chapbook, Make the Light Mine, was published by Kendra Steiner Editions. His poems have appeared in Blue Collar Review, Mad Swirl, Unlikely Stories, and Yellow Mama Magazine. 

Kiss by JB Malory

Kiss

a weapon to pull the moon from the sky icebreakers crushing frozen seas into sharp
shards mosquito swarms with new sickness caught from cadavers alpha omega brainworm lay
larvae in hair like woodsmoke tongue hot ice tulip poplars toppled into Gulf Stream tide pools
hands tremble together fingernails growing in unison from receding riverbeds after a pause neck
caress hair back from ears another moment caught in traps of downy skin whisper skin aging
skin by seconds touching again and touching more and more to come



JB Malory is a writer and musician based in the Hudson Valley region of New York. Since 2008, JB has released music and toured with the post-punk/industrial band, Pop. 1280. He has previously lived in England, New Zealand and China. His fiction has appeared in Terraform.

Matching coffee by Alan Catlin

Matching coffee

Mugs in City Mission
Store:
Best Grandma
and Grandpa ever
Not needed now
Mine was someone
else’s once



Alan Catlin is a six decade warrior of the small press scene.  He has pomes in recent issue of Beatnik Cowboy, Home Planet News, Chamber Magazine and Synchronized Chaos. He has full length books forthcoming from Roadside Press, Impspired and Kelsay Books.

Corrective by Sanjeev Sethi

Corrective

Pain anointed its impression sooner
than I could synthesize its import.
As age embraced me
I learned to paw my way
to the lair of liminal space.
Not far from
the lollipop man of childhood.
Lor, making oneself scarce
is an infelicitous thought.
The finer course
is to accept the affliction.
Welcoming it is the antidote.



Sanjeev Sethi has authored eight books of poetry. His poems have been published in over thirty-five countries and have appeared in more than 500 journals, anthologies, and online literary venues. He is the joint winner of the Full Fat Collection Competition-Deux, organized by Hedgehog Poetry Press in the UK. He lives in Mumbai, India.

X @sanjeevpoems3 || Instagram sanjeevsethipoems ||

To My Knowledge by Sheila E Murphy

To My Knowledge

Business is a perk affording 
hubris as debris. Debride the nearest
epiderm. A berm. Welcome aboard
and room in lower case.

Do you impose yourself
in absencia? Pop (poof) goes 
proof of chase. Of purr. 
A rounded cat. A tat. The calico half fact. 
Good at fractions. 

Each might picture surgical disruption.
A bus ride versus clean glide 
in sterile steel glass 
rubbed clean.

A brief history of independence: 
Leisure mood, a mode, a modular homing.
Craved once ceased to crave.
As equals. A raven grave. A graven rave.
A culture in the throat. 
Insignia to tell others oaths.



Sheila E. Murphy has a book forthcoming from Lavender Ink: Escritoire. Her home is in Phoenix, Arizona. Wikipedia page: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sheila_Murphy

Owed Nothing by Krista Puttler

Owed Nothing

I cut the world’s sunflowers. Bind them
In rubber. Hide them in brick and plaster
Heads reaching.

I trash paint cans, kitty litter crystals
Trap solvents, absolve my laziness.

Am I owed nothing or something or
Choice. I shove

Bottles into hands. I work for those hands.
Raising a future without me.

The world owes you something you think

But caterpillars chew
Butterflies stretch
My lantana is watered
And waiting.



Krista Puttler has been fortunate to call many places home including the Philippines, Guam, Hawaii, Japan, and a stateroom on an aircraft carrier. Her writing has appeared in As You Were: The Military ReviewCollateralIntima, Cagibi, and Cleaver Magazine, among others. A medium-roast coffee gal at heart, she is pleasantly surprised by how much she loves Italian espresso. She lives outside Naples, Italy with her husband and three daughters. You can read more at kristaputtler.com 

Witch Hazel by Garret Schuelke

Witch Hazel

When this hemorrhoid
is finally vanquished,
it won’t be
the pain,
the blood,
the itchiness,
the dryness,
the insomnia,
or the weird prickly sensations in my thighs and dick
that I’ll be
glad are gone:

Even though it
soothes me,
I’ll be glad 
to never have
to bear the
stench of using
Witch Hazel hemorrhoid pads
ever again.



GARRET SCHUELKE is a writer, podcaster, and musician that currently resides in Grand
Rapids, Michigan. He is the author of the GODAN series (Bakunin Incorporated), Anamakee
(Riot Forge Studios, 2016), Whup Jamboree: Stories (Elmblad Media Group, 2017), and three
ebooks.

Fisher-Price Meth Lab by Ryan Quinn Flanagan

Fisher-Price Meth Lab
 
The chisel monkey is drilling holes
in his face again.
 
Bathtubs full of hesitation marks
and a Fisher-Price Meth Lab.
 
Expect to see it in stores
next year.
 
The marketers assure me
that child’s play is addictive.
 
That everyone and their chef
is cooking.
 
Following the trade mags
for your conglomerate
of crimes.
 
You’re famous, take a bow.
All those holes speak of groundhogs
for eyes.
 
A surly charging bear
to help you play cemetery
and hope for the best.



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, Lothlorien Poetry Journal, Red Fez, and The Oklahoma Review.

OBJECTS MAY APPEAR… by Janina Aza Karpinska

OBJECTS MAY APPEAR…

He sat a few seats in front, on the top deck of the bus,
holding a mirror that was made for looking backwards –
a sparkling, scarred wing, pulled from a wrecked van.

From his well-worn carrier bag, the neck of a small,
stringed instrument stuck out – as if to miss nothing;
but when he alighted at a stop in Newhaven Town,

failed to spot, on the clear-roof shelter above his head,
a zipper-case, in which was neatly packed, a shaving kit
complete with curly-tailed cord ~ a would-be gift, unfound.


 




Award-winning poet, Janina Aza Karpinska, draws on many influences and writes in a variety of styles, with work published in London Reader; Magma; Ekphrastic Review; Drawn to the Light; Synchronized Chaos; Raising the Fifth; Sein und Werd, and Cold Signal amongst others. She lives on the south coast of England.