Today is the 3rd Anniversary of One Sentence Poems. Our first poem was Eric Burke’s “The Grand Tour.” We note our anniversary, as we did on our 1st & 2nd anniversaries, with a poem by Eric. Your editors thank all who read OSP and who contribute their work. We’re having fun and are loving the […]
Read MoreRoderick Bates The Light Bouncing off Kelly Davio and into his rheumy eyes may be the only bright thing in the shady old man’s life. Roderick Bates edits Rat’s Ass Review and has published poems in The Dark Horse, Stillwater Review, Naugatuck River Review, Hobo Camp Review, Three Line Poetry, Red Eft Review, and Ekphrastic […]
Read MoreJack Cooper Shao I love like waterbreathing, chest pressured by every breath stolen with you. Jack Cooper is a neuroscience student at the University of Oxford. He tries to impress his arty friends with his science, and his sciency friends with his poems.
Read MoreKim Suttell You’re here like a vending machine out of a blizzard, an incandescent chrome shimmer, a delirium in an Iowan airport at 11:40 p.m. stocked with bagged apple slices, unsalted nuts, cheese-and-organic-wheat-cracker sandwiches, with clean, small bills, not an idling private jet but good coffee, and a full battery enough to save me. Kim […]
Read MoreAnuja Ghimire Newsfeed Inside a burning house, pouring bucketful of songs on the avalanche of flames. Anuja Ghimire is always returning to poetry.
Read MoreSanjeev Sethi Discalced in icebox conditions this rimy night you can’t reach my mind. Sanjeev Sethi has authored three books of poetry. This Summer and That Summer (Bloomsbury, 2015) is his latest. His poems are in venues around the world. He is from India.
Read MoreHowie Good The Poet in Winter Snow is blowing every which way, scraps of paper on each one of which another word I need has just been erased. Howie Good aims his hand in a soldier’s stance at the mongrel dogs who teach.
Read MoreRoy Dorman Choices From the gym floor she singled me out for Lady’s Choice, a slow dance, and I made my way down from seven rows up in the bleachers, past snickering buddies, and danced with her to Skeeter Davis’ “The End of the World,” thinking I should tell Father Ziegler soon I wouldn’t be […]
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