Joanna M. Weston Beach Scene We kiss while the lake shimmers in the heat. Joanna M. Weston has had poetry, reviews, and short stories published for twenty-five years. http://www.1960willowtree.wordpress.com/
Read More03/02/2016 — 0
Poems
02/28/2016 — 0
Kay Pillai: “Smile”
Kay Pillai Smile A little scar and a little crease met at the corner of your eye and made me a promise today. Kay Pillai lives somewhere in India every day, and does little else.
Read More02/26/2016 — 0
M.J. Iuppa: “Another New Year”
M.J. Iuppa Another New Year No snow to speak of on the city sidewalk, or ice for that matter; only a black Mercedes-Benz with tinted windows pulled tight to the curb where a lately bagged Christmas tree waits to be picked up. M.J. Iuppa lives on Red Rooster Farm near the shores of Lake Ontario. […]
Read More02/24/2016 — 0
Allison Rhodes: “Clean Slate”
Allison Rhodes Clean Slate After he left, for good that time, she grabbed the remaining scrap of his soap and thumbed it down the drain. Allison Rhodes spends her time at family gatherings writing one-sentence poems.
Read More02/22/2016 — 0
Hannah Mahoney: “North”
Hannah Mahoney North I remember in the mornings the bright snow-reflected light in the kitchen window, as though that light shone always in that window, as though it were the antidote to the nights we fled our mother’s rages, trudging to town and back and around the iced-over pond till the house had gone dark. […]
Read More02/19/2016 — 0
Steve Klepetar: “Beethoven, they say”
Steve Klepetar Beethoven, they say died with his ears turned inward toward flame. Steve Klepetar admires those who can write a good one sentence poem.
Read More02/17/2016 — 0
Len Kuntz: “Home for the Holidays”
Len Kuntz Home for the Holidays My daughter’s black eye is the gift she brings home for the holidays, her slippery as a fish, not wanting to talk about it, avoiding my eyes when I say, “This isn’t over yet.” Len Kuntz is an editor at the online magazine Literary Orphan and he writes regularly […]
Read More02/15/2016 — 0
H. Edgar Hix: “Precipice”
H. Edgar Hix Precipice I pile my ashes and proclaim “My fire was here!” while fearing even the tiniest breeze. H. Edgar Hix is widely published and has appeared here and on Right Hand Pointing, and many places elsewhere.
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