This Old Town “Jacob, I wish you could have seen it. When I was a little girl, every one of us, the grown-ups and kids alike, would put on our best and head uptown on a Saturday night. Main Street was lit up like a Christmas tree! There was so much energy in the air, …
The First Existentialist Poets Have always been individuals trapped in existence like everybody else caught in the undertow of being. Even before they knew how to spell phenomenology, poets were sensitive souls with angst in their pants who still longed to rise up, to sing and dance. They knew freedom could open the doors of …
Packed and Ready to Go Out of this World Lovebirds sit on their suitcases waiting for their wings to sprout. They listen to a melancholy melody in a minor key planting seeds of love. They carry a supply of dark chocolate, a magnum of Cabernet Sauvignon wine, a double cream brie soft-ripened round, and a …
Look, Stop, and Listen The world is naked before you— a Bacchanal feast worth exploring. Listen to the hum of the wings of a cluster of hungry hummingbirds at your backyard feeder. Notice the sluggish crawl of a swollen caterpillar about to metamorphose into a Monarch butterfly. Embrace the buds of chrysanthemums about to bloom …
The blunt, at times sardonic tone of this poem of Milton’s — as well as the three others we’ll be sharing from him — accurately captured the sweet-and-salty nature of life we all feel at times (now more than ever, surely, for some of us). Enjoy. Hands Can pluck a Stradivarius, sculpt a David out …
Mrs. Fonseca Every time one of those big trucks barreled down Coronado Street flying over the traffic bumps, going fifty miles an hour on a residential street, Mrs. Fonseca’s entire apartment above the garage shook and the dishes in her cabinet above the sink rattled. The trucks passed by several times a day on their …
The second and final poem we will be sharing from Barbara as of now. The story-like quality of both “Her Seven Faces” and “Going Home” were impressive to us, and we imagine you’ll agree. Enjoy. Do you enter from a garage, step into a laundry room clacking and steamy with cleanness? Or slide a glass …
Her Seven Faces Sleeping in blankets like limp wings, she dreams a madwoman’s dreams, (pointing fingers, orange birds whistling convulsively, cord strung with teeth and a prickly amulet). She bursts out of sleep like a swimmer gasping for air. Dried salt marks her skin. She searches a mirror for her seven faces — stiff grin, …
This comedic poem of Dash’s is a sharp, fun, and enlightening read. Enjoy. OK Boomer OK Boomer. We can’t use books because they have no buttons! GOD that’s funny! Icecaps melting, wildfires, hurricanes, but it’s just sunny! “These Millennials are sensitive; I can’t call guys him or that girl her! Oh, my coupon is expired? …
Hello there, We are currently in the final stages of assembling our print issue, and as the end of the semester nears, as does the end of our submission season. The official end-of-year deadline we’ll be honoring at this time is April 22nd — after that, we will be closed for submissions once again. We …