What I Imagine My Parents Did After Dinner

Dec 11, 2015

by Brian Fanelli
In our house, nobody ever danced, / even though my father played Elvis / or Johnny Cash from the silver / CD player that rested on the nook

Long Walk Home

Dec 9, 2015

by Kristene Brown
Hot summer and birds pillage garbage cans, / squabbling for scraps. / With ripped jeans and knotted hair, I follow / the unpaved road to town.

Putting Out the Trash

Nov 24, 2015

by Robert S. King
My socks are small trash bags, / and the street number of my house is zero. / Garbage cans are my walls on winter nights.

Ten Short Poems

Nov 3, 2015

by Simon Perchik
These sheep have no choice either / though even in summer / they still want to hear the truth

Traffic Jam Song #1

Sep 25, 2015

by David Tucker
No one understands the traffic jams in this city, / how they just spring from the ground like this / and why, when you reach the head of the line, there is / no accident

At a Truck Stop on Highway 124

Sep 8, 2015

by Andrea Witzke Slot
The odor of stale hotdogs coils / around this truck stop of quiet men / who sit with faces bowed, bath kits / in laps, fair-like tickets in hand.

Breakfast on the Terrace

Aug 13, 2015

by Rustin Larson
Prism vase, asters blue as glacier ice, / baskets of strawberries, croissants, / goblets lit with orange juice, / & the cathedral distant, the boat house / flying its flag in an international zone

Fiesta Brava

Jul 27, 2015

by Joseph Gross
Then there he is again— / the Suit of Lights, all / epaulets and reluctant pink and gold, / back in the ring.

Beer For Breakfast

May 21, 2015

by David Salner
The chrome-colored clouds / pushed the heat down, held in the car fumes, / the smell of the asphalt. Out on the patio, / I was ready for work

Maternity Leave

May 10, 2015

by Lauren Yates
There is something about traveling home that stops the blood. / My womb becomes a howling dog warning me of danger.