Howie Good Tinnitus: A Love Song It’s something only I can hear and especially during those moments that get so quiet without you not a buzzing exactly or a hiss more like the screech of lab mice conditioned by electric shocks to shudder at the smell of cherry blossoms. Howie Good was born in Dixie […]
Read MoreBen Telicki Body Language That kid next to me— could he stop moving his leg and sit still for God’s sake? Ben Telicki has never liked English class.
Read MoreHolly Wren Spaulding Grove The blue shadows of trees lay down their cool invitations. Holly Wren Spaulding lives in western Massachusetts, where she runs Poetry Forge, an incubator for writers and their work. www.hollywrenspaulding.com
Read MoreF. John Sharp Gong is harder than it looks when you are asked to strike just once a thirty six inch disc of brass with a twelve ounce beater, in a passage that is quieter than a whisper, knowing too hard is obnoxious, too gentle is dead air, and the director has, in the past, […]
Read MoreBob Carlton Another Decision, Deferred This is the night I could walk away from everything I have, even you, if certain conditions were met that are never met. Bob Carlton (www.bobcarlton3.weebly.com) lives and works in Leander, TX.
Read MoreJonathan Densford Expecting a Call Lighting the way from our bed to the bathroom with your phone, you walk like a ghost with a candle, expecting a call. Jonathan Densford lives in Memphis and has had a few poems published in print journals and even one in Right Hand Pointing.
Read MoreSteve Klepetar My body and yours are two bells ringing on a winter morning as if sound could flow in our veins, warming us with its clarion heat. Steve Klepetar believes that those who can write one-sentence poems should be subjected to background checks.
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