Larry D. Thomas Blue Jay What is his song but a brand-new, awkwardly angled stick of blue chalk dragged across the chalkboard of daybreak? Larry D. Thomas reads and writes poems to enjoy the scenery of Yosemite from his balcony in the Chihuahuan Desert of far West Texas. www.larrydthomas.com
Read MoreAngie Werren Is this where my story begins again – the sun, the empty cups? Angie Werren lives and writes in a tiny house in Ohio.
Read MoreCatherine B. Krause The Season In a summer when the sun is so hotthat your old car’s air conditioneris useless for the first several minutes that it’s onso you have to roll down the windows,would you like to have sex in the swimming pool? Catherine B. Krause is Bruce Wayne by day and Catwoman by […]
Read MoreWe Have Questions Beginning tomorrow, you’ll be seeing a series of One Question Poems. -The Editors
Read MoreFlower Conroy Nonbeliever Once I dreamt the heavens cleaved apart & bodies (like larks or leaves) stumbled skyward into blinding ruins. Now I Find Myself at this roadside diner, dining on a seafood salad sandwich & drinking tumbleweed coffee on a Thursday morning before sunrise. Flower Conroy, appearing here for the second time, is the […]
Read MoreBarry Marks Muse My mother taught me to swim by moving backward in the pool as I flailed, frantic to reach her, her voice saying I’m right here, just swim to me. Barry Marks is a Birmingham, Alabama attorney and poet whose book, Possible Crocodiles, was winner of the Alabama State Poetry Society’s 2010 Book of […]
Read MoreElizabeth McMunn-Tetangco Last Summer On the Ferris wheel, last summer, I gripped my son’s blue shirt as we spun sickly in the vacant air, then down, again, to where the hot earth tilted. Elizabeth McMunn-Tetangco lives in California and writes poems because she can’t figure out how to eat the sky.
Read MoreF. J. Bergmann Suggestion Every night just before he fell asleep, voices would offer him ideas, but as long as he kept pretending he was listening to the soundtrack of a war movie everything was okay. F.J. Bergmann sometimes thinks that life is like one long sentence—poorly punctuated, too.
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