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Poems: Heather Sager
Flute of OblivionNight is the Sahara of dark skyhanging its vastness overan abode with pale crescentof kitchen light.A dog barks, sound the crickets.Memory, that lost Mellotron of desire, queue upyour...
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Microfiction: A Small Rebellion by Jack Phillips Lowe
A SMALL REBELLION The government money dropped yesterday. So, Helen went out to Kroger’s for groceries today. Helen is two years older than me. But her legs work better than mine. So...
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New poems: John Grey
MANGOGolden dangling fruit,I pulled you from the tree,not a harvest, but a seduction.Your rind came away in my eager fingers,and the amber juicefilled the creases of my palm,like the sun’s own lotion....
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New poems: Ivan Pozzoni
THE EARTHQUAKE I've been condemned, by Pontius Pilate's alter ego,to aim, raise the hammer!, with a pointer on the right anda rifle on the left, to a lanky style,to a bizarre stylus, osti!, i'll never...
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New poems: Sushant Thapa
Point of Departure Like open doorsAffectionate walls Are hung with love canvases. A sentiment becomes a poem, Without knowing love Grows like tulips On the wallpaper of ages. This heart is old, Yet,...
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George Anderson- Free Jazz
free jazz A cacophonyof tormentedguttural criesemerges endlessly from his pipe the blowing is franticvigoroushystericalsprays of soundsplinterin the open evolving structureassaulting the senses &...
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George Anderson- Earth & Sky
earth & sky Focussing intently on the corpse of the Mallard duckinertpluggedplucked from the sky with remarkable easeby a red scattering cartridge. Some minutes earlierthe duck with instinctive joy...
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George Anderson- Anathema
Anathema Through the convex security screenis the solid, pink columned façade of investment properties jutting balconies with views of bricks & drain pipes & bitumenrented by low paid day...
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George Anderson- words
wordsHow beautiful how refreshing it is one day to wake upwithout any poetic notions, or impulses;simply to let life bewithout pretence without ambition-without words to simply watch the cloudless...
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George Anderson- How to write & analyse a bad poem
How to write & analyse a bad poem 1take a happy middle class familywhere children & parents love long 2give them a large rambling housefull of expensive bay windows 3get them to swallow the...
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George Anderson- Off Road Shrines
Off Road Shrines Ribbon latched clutches of lilies on streetlight postscrooked white wooden crosses on manicured lawns on trees at the end of S bends by the side of railway tracks in...
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George Anderson- I knew a bloke (once)
I knew a bloke (once)after robert creeley & so I sd to my good mate Jim(that’s not his real name)cause we’re always schemingthinking of ways to duplicate a buckor just applying the polyfiller to...
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George Anderson- The Fly
The FlyImagine in your dreamsfumbling towardsa four metre high sandstone sculptureof a common house fly-with wings outstretched/ layeredin the traditional styleof Pacific Coast totem figuresdead to the...
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George Anderson- Dreaming of Johnny Cash
Dreaming Of Johnny CashRonald- father- wherever thou artwhy are you still appearing in my dreams?you’ve been dead now for twelve years! I remember that last time I saw you- at Kentville...
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New poems: Jack Lowe
OPEN TO OTHER SUGGESTIONSNoon, or so. A Thursday. Another unscheduled day off.Not sorry. I pull into the parking lot of my local supermarket to buy the pint of bourbon I promised myself I wouldn’t...
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ANOTHER TIME He’s from another time.That’s why he’s smokinghis third cigarette.That’s why one tiny lightdraws you to himeven in the thick of darkness. His was the body you imaginedNow with your touch,a...
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Richard LeDue: New Poems
The Continual Condition This old Bukowski book(posthumously published)has been all over with me,through good and bad,but I’m well aware it’s just more poemsyellowing like hair greysbut those bent...
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Ivan Pozzoni: New Poems
MUM, I AM AN AUTISTIC Mum, i’m an autistic, not a municipal transport company autistici know in your mother’s heart you always dreamed of settling down as a state employee,without the worry of a time...
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John Grey: New Poems
SUBWAY SAX He’s the sax manof the subway,back to the wall,sound facing the commuters. His eyesare passing shadowsas his instrument blows through and sometimes overthe surrounding babble. No one hears...
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