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Colt’s Foot by Matthew Caley

.     if there isn’t a delinquent shrub named Colt’s Foot then, morally, there should be, birthed from concrete, not      knowing its Latin name, so .      tenacious of root that if you pull it up the whole earth’s core comes with it – molten, whinnying.     Colt’s Foot – it might be beauti… Keep Reading

Posted on in Poetry/Spotlight

Where have all the sofas gone? by Bettina Schroeder

Where have all the sofas gone, all the bar stools that we set upon? Axminster carpets, wall to wall that muffled the sound so we could tell all: “had a blind date in a pub and on detection he had an erection. It was love at first sight for one fucking good night.” . Where… Keep Reading

Posted on in Poetry

The Sun is Everything Today by Kristen Baum DeBeasi

The Sun Is Everything Today For Leyla Navab After a line by Raymond Ridley The sun is everything today, . causing us wild flowers to lift our heads after yesterday’s wind bent us double (to the ground) and we could hardly stand (against it) . The sun is everything today, after yesterday’s rain poured down… Keep Reading

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Paris in Chagall by Neil Richards

Below his window the Seine is a prayer unscrolling. The moon sleeps contentedly in Chagall’s belly until dusk is a greening field. Then Chagall plants himself into dusk. He is the fruiting body of the moon, and when the moon is fully grown Chagall is the mirror where she makes up her face. . Neil… Keep Reading

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