As a single bird fixed in motion pins the sky to itself
remorse grows freely along the wetlands where compromised waters
breed few and far between flowers of great beauty and the human brain
spews soft gray clouds cloudy with truth
I am that river that cleanses—
the invention of a self set apart in ignorance of its own choosing
to be the not music and the not poison
a fluid dynamic of ceaseless production forsaking the concerned landscape
and a bitter end
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Brother, Can You Spare The Time? To be fully present for the sensation of a moment where you can discover what lies behind the human masquerade, and have the chance to make everything in your life new again. You’ll uncover grief, sorrow and passion in the sensing of the body armor. The tragic spiritual mediocrity […]
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Impressions of the Sickhouse I watch in the world, amused by massacre and gin, homeland walls, holiday wars. Viewed from the barred gate darkened surveillance cars prowl, aimless under winter afternoon skies. Cold weather tramps straggle past construction generators, pavement gaps, work order water leaks. I take into consideration the symbolic and the sin. I […]
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Dayton Street Remember when diapers were delivered By a truck with a stork painted on it? I still see that truck once in a while, Like a sighting of the Goodyear blimp. Or maybe I made that up; Memory and reality don’t really mesh. Crashing the Tupperware party, I found more plastic. But far be […]
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Earworms The noise was driving him mad. No, worse than mad. It was driving him so far around the bend he couldn’t think crooked, let alone straight — not even enough to find a word for just how crazy the sound made him. It hadn’t been so bad at first — just some catchy tune. […]
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Heavy Flowers The hairbrush waits patiently, bedside. The mirror is off-duty. There’s a plane of quilted flowers. Breath is heavy. You feel loosely-built. The soft music of the body rocks you in the room’s warm coat. The world, large and lost, vast and wondrous, diminishes. Years will come, sweep you away. But this is where […]
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Cliff Saunders has an MFA in Creative Writing from The University of Arizona. His poems have appeared recently in The Wayne Literary Review, Pedestal Magazine, Wilderness House Literary Review, Pinyon, San Pedro River Review, North of Oxford, and RipRap Literary Journal. He lives in Myrtle Beach, where he serves as co-coordinator of The Litchfield Tea […]
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Michael Madden’s work can be found in Into the Void Magazine. He earned his MFA from Spalding University. Thom Yorke Thom Yorke sing me lullaby Each night as I lay dying Morning music—Jeff, Lucinda, Marvin But Thom sing me lullaby Sweet lullaby Each night As I lay dying I like the strings I like the […]
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Debarun Sarkar lives in Calcutta and spends most of his time juggling between freelancing and writing. Recent works have appeared in or are forthcoming in 1:1000, Visual Verse, Former People, Burningword, The Los Angeles Review of Los Angeles, Your One Phone Call, Wild Plum, Tiny Donkey, among others. Talk of Desert at a Music Festival I […]
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Marshall Anderson is a musician, writer, and artist living in Austin, TX. His book of poems Either Side of Your Dreaming (2015) is available online. He is currently writing both poetry and music for new releases. So Many Boomboxes Mandy’s Mom died on her birthday and every August is hard on her. She probably asks God, “Why’d you […]
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