Dirt my great-uncle drenches the headlines in honey; he watches syllables slur together and become illegible under a sunny ooze   my great-uncle doesn’t know that i wake up early to read the paper before him, that i let scalding sentences slide down my spine, that i coax crinkled commas into my ears   my great-uncle holds a skinned rabbit in one hand and a riffle in the other   when i beg him to dispose of the danger in his palms, he says i’m just a child   he says that forbidden words stumble out of my mouth, words about a world without weapons   he says he’ll destroy the dirt dancing on my tongue   he feeds me detergent for dinner   he doesn’t know that dreams can’t be disinfected  

Trucks flew up in the air like feathers in a final tarantella.… Read More “AT THE STORE by Rodica Stan”

I have a house in my heart where cloth napkins are folded in the shape of autumn leaves and dinner is served every night around a table set by a lively teenager who is still my best friend.… Read More “HOUSE IN MY HEART by Margo Dills”

When time hammers a horseshoe upside down upon a hoof.… Read More “ICE-BLUE STARS by Peter Verbica”

Replacement Theory The life of this world is but comfort of illusion.… Read More “REPLACEMENT THEORY by Kevin James”

Death seems less likely in the morning when you wake, if that’s what we do, in a new day, if that’s what it is,   but all this hinges on Time, doesn’t it?… Read More “WHAT YOU HAVE TO REMEMBER by Stan Sanvel Rubin”

Today, you have no loves for me, only urgent bells chiming for every other poet, my shy tribe of braggadocios.… Read More “DEAR FACEBOOK by Elya Braden”

A Better Mother In those days, I hung our moments together on the walls of the museum of I am a good enough mother.… Read More “A BETTER MOTHER by Elya Braden”