Category: Poetry

the other he binds my arms, by Gary Lundy

the other he binds my arms above my head. legs slightly spread bound as well. the purity of white cotton rope. mouth gagged eyes covered heightened sense of hearing. as well as smell and touch. nod yes if this remains all right. up and down. nice meeting you like this. are there others in the […]

Pause, by .Chitrita

my lips had none of the finesse of smooth jazz or electric guitar, instead, it had all the pizzazz of slipping record and sideway stream rocket ships there, there in the heat of liftoff choking on smoke I felt myself unsticking, unfurling like hair underwater slowly, softly, untangled petals and jellyfish so easily bruise your […]

Southpaw, by Erric Emerson

I wake up from limbo and notice two of my fingers are broken, the pinky and ring. My left hand looks like a puffer fish without the spines. The knuckle is hiding in there somewhere and I’ve got the usual scrapes from hurling and falling. Jerking off with my weak hand is like doing it […]

Wonder Wednesday: Dylan Thomas.

Some Wednesdays, we just like to spin some classics. Today, the great Welsh poet Dylan Thomas deserves the spotlight with the gut-wrenching, delicate, powerful and amazing “Do not go gentle into that good night”. — Do not go gentle into that good night, Old age should burn and rave at close of day; Rage, rage against the […]

Rapture of the Deep, by Dustin Pickering

His last gesture was to extend his arms out, a Christ hopeless to the wreck and fall of his body. He wished to show his last sign of hope, the deepening thrust of the waters took him undertow. Some of us wait patiently for death. The sea will thicken your destined light and your eyes […]

Third cousin, once removed – Patrick Bower

I don’t even remember his name, just the tough way he shifted gears, how his braces made him look wise. I was only in town for two nights, but he wanted to show me all the spots, take me cruising with the boys: Once we hit the town square, that’s where the girls are and […]

Drinking Hour, by Rin Baatz

Rosy, so rosy now. You tip the liquid fire down your throat and take the wheel. Nobody else is out. It’s dark for this time of day. It’ll be fine. It’s late. You’re running late. The wheel hurts your warm hands. Shaking, shivering, you take control. So far so good. You don’t notice how you […]

Untitled, by William C. Blome

  I safety-pinned my dome cap to the big de Kooning on the wall when no one around was looking, and you can’t tell me that blown-up woman isn’t instantly more modest, kind of the opposite of what happened to General Grant when the bluffs at Vicksburg quit being so steep. So I’ve known you […]

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