Swallowed

Charles K. Carter   They say the sun will swell up and engulf this whole planet someday. I want to be swallowed up by pure sunshine. I want to be free.   Charles K. Carter is a queer poet and educator from Iowa. He shares his home with his artist husband and...

Ode to a Ventilator

Ed Doerr   Like desperate & confused snakes slithering from the depths of murky lakes, blue plastic flues writhe up her throat to plug into a square, a box, a damned machine that, pitiless, prolongs this sullen scene with billow’s breath, each huff & puff...

Moon Rondeau

Debbie Robson   Pearl grey, smoke brown clouds dance all night and I lie watching mesmerised by the sight – a tango about the moon as clouds reveal then hide the white rays on the mountain side and the ocean now dark, now light. The world revolves. Brown...

Two Flags

Andre P. Audette   I saw two flags at that rally there. Two flags crossed at that rally there. I looked close – real close – and saw him there. There he was, just crucified on the cross right there. There on the cross of flags right there. Blood and water flowing...

The element that runs the tail of the dog

Sue Spiers   It’s sulphur inside a yolk when you’re shaving; a mirror image that’s slightly misbehaving. It’s feeling calcium grow when bones curl in fingers, ghosts of malleable digits, reptilian harbingers. It’s coppicing trees when their leaves turn to copper...

Breast Autopsy

Michael L. Ruffin   Someone left a message on the church’s prayer line: “Pray for my friend; she’s having a breast autopsy tomorrow.” My first thought: “What good will that do?” My second thought: “If it’s dead, why not just cut it off?” My third thought: “Back...