William Cullen Jr. Fishing on Easter Leaping heavenward the trout has the grace to miss a fly well cast. William Cullen Jr., a veteran who works at a social services non-profit in Brooklyn NY, has published in Camroc Press Review, Gulf Stream, Pirene’s Fountain, Right Hand Pointing, Spillway, Wild Goose Poetry Review and Word Riot.
Read MoreHowie Good Another Word For It A naked woman, pollen caught in her fuzzy triangle, stands atop a heap of broken stones in a strange pose, & it’s impossible when looking up at her not to imagine some prior tragedy in a crowded street or to speak without whispering, even if no one is there […]
Read MoreBrad Rose A Cure for an Amarillo August Road-worn, dusty, and lined, Ray has a face like a license plate on a stalled Texas pick-up, but as he wraps his wrangler’s arms around her, Roxanne swoons as if he were a cool, dizzying shot of ice-cold anesthesia. Brad Rose was born and raised in southern […]
Read MoreBrad Rose Delusions of War Like a shrapnel hole puncturing an olive-drab helmet there was a sudden lull in the fighting, during the dead silence of which, I imagined I would one day die of natural causes. Brad Rose’s poetry and fiction are at http://bradrosepoetry.blogspot.com/
Read MoreK. R. Copeland The Storm The storm barges in like an irrational father, hearing moaning just beyond his daughter’s door. K. R. Copeland turns letters into words, words into poems and poems into books.
Read MoreMary-Jane Newton Priorities Be like the sundial: count the light hours and fail to show up for the dark ones. Mary-Jane Newton meets her readers elsewhere, other than where words command us –beyond and beneath their meanings.
Read MoreSarah Kobrinsky Poker Face My third eye sees your third eye And raises an eyebrow. Sarah Kobrinsky, the current Poet Laureate of Emeryville, CA, was born in Canada, reared in North Dakota, seasoned in England, and tempered in California.
Read MoreJ.D. Smith January Owing us nothing now, the green cords barbed with lights acquiesce into the tangles of their accustomed boxes. J.D. Smith’s third collection of poetry is Labor Day at Venice Beach, which everyone should own.
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