INSIDE THIS ISSUE:
Chris Lord
Joseph McNair
Duane Locke
Lazlo Slomovits
Alan Britt
Shutta Crum
Tolu Ogunlesi
Jerry Blanton
Paul B. Roth
Fred Wolven
Felino Soriano
Sharon E. Boyd
Joanie Freeman
Jumoke Verissimo
Running Cub
Jeanpaul Ferro
S. P. Flannery
Kristina Marie Darling
Gary Beck
Dike Okoro
Karyn M. Wolven
Tonight
rising off
my face
full of stars
a shoreline
surfaces
from whose foam
a lone dog
emerging
is caught
gnawing at one
of the moon's
legs with red
flashing teeth
and lips
drooling blood
into lichens
whose shapes
map
an oblong rock
that can't help
but tilt
the wrong way
MORNING AFTER POEM
Deep breathing
their way
through silence
holding me
as close
as my own skin
all night
words
still dressed
in their masks
and party hats
without
waking
roll over in bed
away from me
POET AT REST
So lost am I
among so many
endless
grass blades
where threads
webworms weave
from tip to tip
clothe me
then every shade
every angle
of sun
every breeze
varies
my steady face
in each
rainbowed strand
HUMID DAWN
Frogs
gulp echoes
Rocks sweat
Cool water
trickles
from my hand
to the page
Clear ink
distinguishes
words from
my absence
Concentrating
on nothing
to say
with silences
becoming
almost too great
I'm writing them
exactly
as I hear them
HISTORY BIT
Without
realizing it
I languish
in a Lithuanian
rain
still dowsing
my ancestors'
ash village
I watch
through the drizzle
their ruins'
smoke
vaporized,
become blue mist
I watch it hover
over gold
prairie stubble
windblown by snow
at winter's dawn
Yet before it's gone
for lack of fresh water
and green grass
it tips
the prized tongues
of yoked oxen
with hope
Paul B. Roth, Fayetteville, New York