Art
Erasure, The Lotus Eaters, Ulysses*
Larissa Shmailo
BY LORRIES ALONG SIR JOHN ROGERSON’S QUAY
past Nichols’ the undertaker’s. Eleven, daresay.
Sent his right hand with slow grace over his hair:
Where was the chap I saw in that picture somewhere?
Ah, in the dead s...
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Poem
Some of My Friends
Max Blagg
“Some of my friends don’t know who they belong to.”
Dipsomanic daytrippers kicking it
in small motels on desert mornings
dancing a june bug sonata
percussive staccato legato
flowing smooth and certain as a rive...
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Poem
Linda
Eddie Woods
LINDA
“songs like a practiced whore
who turns away from no one
but the one who loves her.”
--Djuna Barnes
How deathly strange it all seems—
especially here on the thin edge of passion,
...
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Poem
Swallow the Evidence
Wanda Phipps
Inspired by The Limits of Control, a film by Jim Jarmusch
my mind hops back
to the century trees
of Cabo de Gata
a woman in platinum wig
white cowboy hat
white trench coat
and cowboy boots
covered in leopard’s ...
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Poem
the perfect child
steve dalachinsky
i am a descendant of those that have survived for centuries
& my mother wanted me to be the perfect child
i am still amazed that people know how to make doors
their ingenuity baffles me
way beyond that of a beaver & its...
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Poem
Other Body Parts Are Worthy of Attention
Hal Sirowitz
“My problem is I’m both attracted and repelled by the male organ.”
—Diane Keaton, Manhattan
I hope you don’t quote me
as saying I like your sexual organ,
she said. There are better things
I...
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Art
Poetry Toys
Sparrow
Yes,
there
are
bobble-
head
dolls
of
Poe,
but
where
are the
action
figures
of
Auden?
Bob Ross, oil on canvas, 24" x 30", 2014 by Samoa Moriki
--Sparrow
Sensitive Skin 12 av...
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Poem
Sing This One Back to Me
Bob Holman
Honeybee honeybee deep in the honeytree
Do not tell me to suck dry the tips of whip grass
Swan sway swan sway Ganges flows all day
Would you send me off then to the blasting seas?
Tale singer nightingale crooner carousin...
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Art
The Doctor, Part 97
Sean Flaherty
The way my fingers fit
beginning at the sternum,
moving along
the rib bones,
each time I see
the Doctor,
each time I leave her office
it seems
easier
to say
“I am dying.”
Photograph by Jeff Spirer
...
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Poem
What Friends Say
Pete Simonelli
Jason moved across the floor on his hands and knees,
I see him this way constantly, in that scooting motion,
making his way to the records lined against the other wall.
Dawn is lighting up outside. He says,
“You have...
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Poem
8th Street Station (Yin-Yang)
Ron Kolm
I met you
At the Grey Gallery
Across from Washington Square Park.
We were going to the opening
Of The Left Front: Radical
Art in the “Red Decade.”
We ate all the peanuts
And most of the chips
That were set out...
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Art
In General
Michael Randall
My friends tend to laugh when I bare my soul
and slowly nod when I tell a joke
These things occur to me only when I’m high
and might have no truth whatsoever
I’m most honest when purely drunk
yet somehow pure be...
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Poem
Our Heavy Metal Life
Jose Padua
Sometimes I like to imagine that my family
and I are a heavy metal band,
playing gigs in the southern states,
riding in a big tour bus that has skulls
painted on the side,
and a big decal of the grim reaper
wielding hi...
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Poem
Oakland
Marc Olmsted
Ocean fog thick in the avenue night
white Christmas lights in October
Shamrock Arms Bar
glowing green & red
through clear quartz-glass block front
the Dead Sailor Girls will play tomorrow
salt taste in air
wher...
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Art
It Is Not Here on Earth What I Am Seeking
Jack Micheline
I don’t know what I am seeking
In the cool night
rivers and birds
a sensuous lip
a rainbow of dreams
past waterfalls
the ruins of cities appear and fade in front of me
awkward man
he dresses and clowns
seeking lov...
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