That girl over there in the corner is a block of ice.
by Will Sharp of San Antonio
Blue light timpani
on a stilled heart drum.
Te deum-Te deum-Te deum.
Canticle on ventricle.
That repellent pulse - still visible.
by Ella Larkin of Norwich
Why waste regimens if boundaries are meant to be broken, everything is complicated my love. Why make shrews’ ragweed’s that leave your logic spinning, the words delight my love. You just have to understand my allegories and you’ll know my purpose, nothing is eternal, and everything returns my love.
by Nicole Heredia of Hagerstown
The parking lot is full, other eager bees in hieroglyphic holding pattern. Oh, the contusion of blooms, polka dot Mylar balloons, the bloody boxes of chocolates! Who first leered into pulse and spurt and built a steeple to those hollowed chambers? Sometimes in inchoate openings, forced zippers, the sprung ribcage of typewriter keys; all the dumb nubs beating out of kilter in aggregate.
by Aholaah Arzah of Port Townsend
I limp short, ghost calves straining. Cane propels through electric doors. Glass and rubber seal me inside. Smells of salt, baking plastic.
Patients numb as goldfish. Summer leaks in through skylights. Where the hell is Suite D?
I wait behind cataract grandma. Drug salesmen gossip like Mormons. Plaque says Dr. Robert P. Mudd. Paintings of villas with cows and vineyards.
Grapes ripe, staring like eyes.
by Kirby Wright of Vista
Digging up rocks, throwing them aside, planting it, watering it, soaking it, overflowing it, making sure it doesn’t wither, but grow, grow up. More water, more water. Maybe too much water, don’t know. Don’t know what happened. Don’t touch it. Don’t pull up what’s left. Let it be. Walk away. Don’t look back. Walk away. Please.
by William J Fedigan of Ridgewood