Mac Davis & Christmas Crime in Beverly Hills
Suzi Kaplan Olmsted
Mac Davis died today
He wrote music for Elvis, or something
I was a terrible flute player
I'm not sure if I remember it correctly
I'm not sure why my memories are so fuzzy about it, either
I was having some bouts of ...
Excerpt from PANDEMIC DIARY
Wanda Phipps
Thursday, September 17, 2020
slo-mo melting images
in my brain
dali does a cartwheel
california’s burning
orange skies
smoke wired through clouds
do I hear fireworks
In the middle of the night
in new york
or ...
A Translator’s Fare thee well!In Memoriam Steve Dalachinsky (1946-2019)
Jürgen Schneider
You didn't want to be called a poet
that's what you once said:
I am a tree without roots fixed in its wanderings
a misplaced garden of endless possibilities.
What I’ve done for the better part of my life
besides comp...
Beat Scrapbook by Gerald Nicosia – Review
Jim Feast
Gerald Nicosia, Beat Scrapbook (Brooklyn: Coolgrove Press, 2020) 113 pages, $19.95
Gerald Nicosia has dedicated all his nonfiction books to describing those who, through whatever means, fought for the underdogs. His biogr...
Hard candy
Carrie Magness Radna
He always wanted love
more delicious than
hard candy
couldn’t ever get enough—
never could quench down the fire
in his loins, in his mouth
and she was red-hot
once upon a time,
before their kid, before the fa...
Anne Waldman: the Poet vs. the Warring God
John Pietaro
This is my vision…days on earth/Days when the weather changed course
When we lost our minds/When leaders failed us/ There was no wisdom.
From the opening strains of “Extinction Aria”, the lead selection on Anne Wa...
TIFFANY AND ERIC AND DON JR AND KIMBERLY COMPLAIN: THE LEFT IS TRYING TO CANCEL US (WELL BOO HOO TO THAT)
George Wallace
So, Tiffany and Eric and Don Jr and Kim Guilfoyle say those opposed to daddy's form of government are trying to silence them. That it is radical and unfair to speak out against his style of political discourse -- by which I ...
BURROW
Olena Jennings
We were trapped inside.
We used to throw our cigarette butts
out the window.
We were leaving pieces of ourselves
everywhere then.
The soles of my shoes crumbled
and the threads of my shirts unraveled.
He came to se...
Three Poems by Vladimir Gandelsman
Anna Halberstadt
***
И от любви остаётся горстка
пепла, не больше напёрстка.
Нет, не страшно стало душе
быть нелюбимой уже.
Вот тебе рукави...
Across the Wounded City
Kevin R. Pennington
I.
Riding the bus,
going to the doctor.
Today, it’s the psychiatrist.
Tomorrow the therapist.
I ride in silence,
staring at my phone.
The trip is long,
as measured in poetic
meter. Too many stops
for an en...
New Work – Leslie Hardie
Leslie Hardie
I aim to create a sense of energy in my work that stimulates emotion and thought. In a word, my work is about energy--the energy of human experience, of thought and emotion, of the chaos and order of Nature, and of the visua...
Steve Cannon’s Parting Words
Jim Feast
were usually, “Here take $20” or “Take this $40”
which was to pay for stuff at the bodega
I read to him late Saturday afternoons, and, as no one was usually due to drop by till Sunday, I got the supplies before I...
Ordinary Death in the Time of Plague
Peter Marti
RIP Vincent Zangrillo
One by one the pillars we lean on crumble into
an equally impossible horizon—
you are gone and the City you loved is far away
the dead command the living now, are afforded
freezer-trucks bu...
Brushes With Fame
Bernard Meisler
When I lived in New York City, I frequently had brief, meaningless encounters with celebrities.
I used to have a place on 6th Street between 2nd and 3rd. One time I was at my front door and a limo pulled to a stop ri...
