Category: Poetry

by Bonnie Riedinger   He’s a whirligig on a sugar high, A tuning fork come to dine, A vertiginous blur Spiked in his drink Like a Mai Tai parasol.   H...

by Dave Borthwick   1. & 2. —Always Now the Jackdaws talk from dark to dark, voices chimpish in the low conversations of pre-dawn: intimate and confidi...

by Ann Cefola In the beginning was the Bone and the Bone was good and strong, it grew outward in layers, flushed inside by beating blood, held by organs, muscle...

by Carol L. Deering The fox on Riverview, beautiful as it lay. Small pointed face, black-tipped snout, white fur lifting in a paw’s sweep of pathos, its coat th...

by Ian Dudley I was taking a walk, (I thought) but the walk had second thoughts and abandoned me in the middle of fields of unseasonal wheat, trim, knuckled hed...

Short-faced bear I snort and suck the air for distant carcass stench to clench my craving. I run as far as sun-drop, as far as mammoth, slick and spilled. I wat...

by Scott Edward Anderson The house finch nest in my porch light has a curious architecture, made entirely of found things: dried seed heads from last year’s col...