David Chorlton was born in Austria, grew up in rainy Manchester in England, and after spending most of the 1970s in Vienna he moved to Arizona. Since arriving in Phoenix he has pursued his writing, and been active in various capacities in the poetry world. The Bitter Oleander Press recently published his translations from the poetry […]Read more "The Wolves"
Elizabeth Sackett earned a degree in English with a writing concentration from SUNY Geneseo, where she received the Lucy Harmon Award for Fiction Writing and was published in Gandy Dancer. She has also been published in Gravity Of The Thing, Fickle Muses, Neon Literary Magazine and Subprimal Poetry Art, and enjoys writing about women, folklore, […]Read more "Wherein"
Simulacrum Forget woolly lambs, tin can stars glued with glitter, German glass globes passed down from grandparents. Deck the halls not with tannenbaum, but fiber-optics & PVC. Cell towers seduce the highway eye with spiked green bottlebrushes and dust wands. Firs in New Jersey, cactus in the desert, Mexican fan palms and long-needle pines. Like […]Read more "Simulacrum"
Patrick Theron Erickson, a resident of Garland, Texas, a Tree City, just south of Duck Creek, is a retired parish pastor put out to pasture himself. His work has appeared in Grey Sparrow Journal, Cobalt Review, and Burningword Literary Journal, among other publications, and more recently in Tipton Poetry Journal, Right Hand Pointing, Wilderness House Literary Review and Danse Macabre. Let Everything That […]Read more "Let Everything That Has Breath"
Mark Jackley‘s work has appeared in Fifth Wednesday, Sugar House Review, Natural Bridge and other journals. His new book of poems On the Edge of a Very Small Town is available for free via email request. Visitant is featuring a selection of poems from On the Edge of a Very Small Town. Grace When I use […]Read more "Grace"
Lee Jaszlics is a technical writer and photographer living in Portland, Oregon. They share their life with a cat, two pet spiders and a dissecting microscope. Explorer’s Log I came to this place without sorrow, Left the weight of years behind And swam through a narrow place. Slipped between stars breathed deep. Red moss pulled […]Read more "Explorer’s Log"
I want to see a star from a high place, not necessarily a mountain. Maybe a tree limb. To sit quietly, no kicking my leg or swaying my body like I have a baby in my arms. That baby is grown up and learning to fly fish thousands of miles away on a lake where […]Read more "My Impatience is like a fish"
I’m filling my Earl Grey tea cup this morning at work when the weirdest water cooler conversation bubbles up. “Let me ask you a strange question.” I smile nervously, “OK.” “You ever close your eyes and press your fingers into your eyelids?” “Yeah, fireworks light show.” “Exactly!” He flutters his eyes closed and lightly demonstrates […]Read more "On Floaters and Flashes"
“I know we’re going to meet some day in the crumbled financial institutions of this land there will be tables and chairs there’ll be pony rides and dancing bears there’ll even be a band cause listen, after the fall there will be no more countries no currencies at all, we’re gonna live on our wits […]Read more "Winter Is Coming and There Will Be Snacks: Songs for the Solstice Apocalypse"