By Marina Massenz
Translated by Johanna Bishop
I unwind my threads, unravel with
feigned patience inner skeins
in the drenched time, the heat transfixes
transforms the solid body
By Marina Massenz
Translated by Johanna Bishop
I unwind my threads, unravel with
feigned patience inner skeins
in the drenched time, the heat transfixes
transforms the solid body
By Marina Massenz
Translated by Johanna Bishop
We came out of the box only
this morning joints and reflexes clack
clack all rusty getting into gear
slowly but surely in full operation
By Luisa A. Igloria
It’s so quiet at night.
In these rooms, each one
prays in her own compartment
By Luisa A. Igloria
which Abomination are you?
The quiz bait: Are you an ass lobster,
or a guy who’s just trying to jerk off
Carol Hamilton
The young artist grabbed up
industrial castoffs, plastic-backed
chairs, built edifices
to tower or confine, but soon
Kelli Allen
Mirabi says elephants know the way
down each mountain. Valleys pass
in supplication under such feet.
Kelli Allen
This will be a love letter after slipping
into, zipping fast, the tent. Calibrate how
gravity draws one feather over a bone.
Martin Willitts Jr.
Light is not lush, or mute,
not even a combination of ghosts
rising from carpet
as a funnel of dust motes,
Martin Willitts Jr.
the body remembers what the mind forgets
withdraws from the world by inches
escalating exponentially
S.D. Lishan
But all is to be dared, because even a person of poverty
wears a garland of longing.
I have painted my eyes and claws in scarlet.
My horse’s nostrils flare.
Diana Raab
I want you to know
one thing
if there is ever a day
when you begin to think
where I am in this world
and if I could live without you
Peter J. Grieco
It was the cleverest of all my dreamers
who provides the next example. She had
rebelled, violently, against the idea
of having to spend the summer
Peter J. Grieco
Dreaming has been compared with the random
cacophony resulting from “the ten
fingers of a man who knows nothing about
music, as they wander over the keys
Sean Mahoney
Am foreign.
Am false equivalence.
Radiographic spread. Orgiastic
systems: thin white matter
Alfredo Barnaby
At dusk the skirt would unfold from an inkblot.
I would follow each hem,
vase of barren soil tilting forth,
palms welled for a spare garden,
Craig Evenson
Without the thrashing snake
it is till:
a cross, i,
a pair of trainless rails
a vacant trail
Sophie Strand
def. the world as experienced by a particular organism.
All I want is a red dress. I can circumscribe the island
in a day’s walk. My forays into other worlds always involve me
Timothy Yu
Dr. Timothy lectured till
his tenure came and then
he stole a voice & lectured to the world.
They publish again & again, like war,
Timothy Yu
I am not the man who spoke & spoke.
I am not the girl better, braver but.
I am not thinged for your school.
I am not wise. I keep my selving shut.
Sandra Kolankiewicz
Instead, we bought things even though we knew
purchasing would improve nothing, would make
the days worse as the bills came in, too fraught
Ruth Madievsky
The flight was cancelled. The Ativan failed.
My grandmother got cancer.
I wore a white coat, a pharmacy badge. My patient
went into cardiac arrest
Ruth Madievsky
I mouth you into a corner.
I mouth you as if there’s a gun to my head,
a man in a ski mask
shouting, Mouth him or it’s all over—
Kirsten Hemmy
Sometimes giggles
doors slam
once your heart stops
mid-dream &
Kirsten Hemmy
How to be honest about this?—
The mind with its revisionist self,
all intention & ego. You want to say
something about your heart, the soul,
Florbela Espanca
Translated by Carlo Matos
I dream of being one of the elect, a poetess
that says and knows all,
whose inspiration is pure and perfect,
whose words gather immensities about them.
Florbela EspancaENGLISH | SPANISH Sonho que sou a Poetisa eleita, Aquela que diz tudo e tudo sabe, Que tem a inspiração pura e perfeita, Que reúne num verso a imensidade! Sonho que um verso meu tem claridade Para encher todo o mundo! E que deleita Mesmo aqueles que...
By Bhaskar Chakraborty
Translated by Manash Firaq Bhattacharjee
Outside, fitful moonlight
Our dream-train has halted at our courtyard –
Come, pull out from beneath the bed
By Gabrielle Lessans
1.
Dawn said how can we talk about gender without talking about race? You think how can we talk about earth where our air is easy.
By Eli Sahm
I can’t wait to smile hummus
organic, ooze carrot-like composure
and be OK with time. I’ll sketch
pictures of my future kids, intuit
By Jonathan Louis Duckworth
she prepares her face
to be perfect for death
rouge, a dash of mercury on her
cheek
a golden ring for each finger