the slow inflections of the wind
where rivers run like scars.
The moon hangs quietly
in the blackened air, halved and emptied, decaying since dusk
Tag: Creative Writing
ONE POEM – Ava Patel
Here lie abandoned gyro crusts and Bundt cake crumbs.
Your fingers shine with olive oil grease
TWO POEMS – DS Maolalai
waking
at midnight
to piss
on the sand dunes
and the sky overhead
like a badly
scratched frying pan.
ONE POEM — Alanna Offield
My soles are gelatinous, a mixture of blood, and yoke.
THREE POEMS – Susan Moon
My mother packed eggs sunny side up,
Spam slices golden-browned to perfection
tucked into my lunchbox.
ONE POEM – Alice Foo
The angel comes unbidden
on a Thursday morning,
knocking briskly, handing me
a pineapple and thirteen coral-tinted roses.
ONE POEM – Sidrah Zubair
will you give me gentle hand grips and the space I need
to feel sorry for myself?
TWO POEMS – Kali Richmond
the diver submerged for so long
we presume her dead
shark food
scattershot of matter sinking deeper than cameras
ONE POEM – Gerry Stewart
Spread out before you,
whipped and bright coloured,
dripping with sauces,
a world of unimagined flavours,
untranslatable.
ONE POEM – Ryan Clark
Below the wall the soil
leeches contaminants
from an artificial hill rising
out of the field like a wart.
ONE POEM – Barnaby Smith
the small hours are all about compost—
wanderlust of priceless larvae
& transcendent effect of unremarkable habits
ONE POEM – Kate J Wilson
you said it’s tradition in Spain that as the clock
strikes twelve we must scoff a grape a chime
one at a time, but quickly as any left over become
unsalvageable, each one a rotten, failing month.
Porridge 