Persistence of Snowfall by William Doreski

Persistence of Snowfall Do we ever think of Oedipus in his self-inflicted blindness? Do we think beyond incest and the priapic of kingship to see his suffering flourish in vivid Impressionist colors? The storm that will arrive tonight will camouflage us under snow. We’ll rise at dawn and ignite machines to hack a route through …

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2 poems by Todd Cirillo

Our Serenade Everything was right about the morning. The way she woke after nine hours of solid sleep to discuss her dreams after an “I love you” in place of good morning. We keep each other company in the shower, morning music, the way she stops to kiss me while getting dressed or me holding …

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Magnified 500X by Zack Kopp

MAGNIFIED 500X   MARGARET RICHARDSON KNEW everything that was happening on her block before it happened. Always watching from behind her fence, near a birdfeeder, she kept tabs on all her neighbors’ dirty habits. Handsome Mr. Ushoom down the street was plagued by a dangerous obsession with high-stakes gambling. He always wore yellow bellbottoms when …

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2 poems by Peycho Kanev

Eclectic The moment before the moment of pain— for example her gaze becomes deep as a lake after the autumn rains, full of drowned men. We walk alone in the park and the leaves fall, fall… Empty beer melancholy, we only have this life to live.   Sharks You must be extremely cautious not to …

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2 poems by Matthew Borczon

After it’s over The war pours the first drink of every evening after it’s over the war is a three am booty call that makes you sweat and scream after it’s over the war is the only story you remember around the campfire the only verse you remember of any song It’s a peach pit …

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3 poems by Daniel Romo

Empty Nest What’s the term for when a dad’s home alone, sitting in the corner of his living room left holding his feelings and fate, cradled in his arms like a fresh bouquet of carnations and consolations? And what’s it called when you have too much time to stop and smell the newly bloomed juxtaposes? …

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THE POLISH HAMMER POETRY CORNER: Gramma K’s Apocalypse by Karl Koweski

Gramma K’s Apocalypse I would have rather been anywhere other than where I was, sprawled on the olive shag carpeting of Gramma K’s efficiency apartment, cringing beneath the beatific gaze of Pope John Paul II peering down from a three-year-old calendar tacked to the nicotine-stained wall. A Love Boat rerun played on the television. It …

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2 poems by J.I.B.

                                                                                                              …

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Dance Lesson by Jake St. John

Dance Lesson She was blonde and older than me we were both at a junior high school dance standing in opposite corners of the gymnasium talking to friends she walked through the sound activated shadows and asked me to dance wide eyed and off balance I nodded and was shoved out and into her arms …

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3 prose poems by Michael Brockley

Walking While Visible to Motorists Whenever I walk through my neighborhood, I wear a thistle-green t-shirt. One with mustard-yellow stains beneath the armpits. Sometimes I switch to a white undershirt that was once my go-to for the dates I had with the woman who didn’t want to appear in my poems. I cover my torso …

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