Poetry Month, 2015
The Editors

Poems by John S. Hall, Bonny Finberg, JD King, Emily XYZ, Marc Olmsted, Jack Micheline, Jose Padua, Michael Randall, Ron Kolm, Pete Simonelli, Sean Flaherty, Bob Holman, Hal Sirowitz, Sparrow, steve dalachinsky, Wanda Phipps, Eddie Woods, Max Blagg, Larissa Shmailo, Rob Hardin, Rebecca Weiner Tompkins, Ron Richardson, Carl Watson, John Farris, David Rattray, Norman Douglas, Sharon Mesmer, Taylor Mead, Michael Carter, Vladimir Mayakovsky.

Art by Rick Prol, Charles Gatewood, Justine Frischmann, Stephen Lack, Justin Clifford Rhody, Marina Loeb, Ruby Ray, Hal Hirshorn, Dennis Gordon, Charles Schick, Ted Barron, Joseph O’Neal, Leslie Hardie, David West, Peter Shear, Evelyn Bencicova, Chris Bava, Tom McGlynn, Clinton King, Samoa Moriki, David de Biasio, Jeff Spirer, Jean-Christian Bourcart, Daniel Kolm, Kym Ghee, Liz Kresch, Jonathan Cowan, John Lurie, and Henner Schroeder.

Suspect Device
Michael Carter

for Seamus Heaney In a cold stone cabin In a deserted Cill Rialaig solstice-tide, West wind wailing through drafty rafters, Enounced aloud “Hrothgar Skyldinga” & your Beowulf by turf-light, Huddled in checkered blue Irish wool blankets: Those dragons were real, and Grendel’s Avenging mom an otherworldly force Today in my W.C. scriptorium, See you pensive… Read more »

The Senator Gets the News the World Is Burning, oil on sized paper, 11" x 14”, 2014, by Stephen Lack
Flack from Taylor
Taylor Mead

A President who makes war Against and on Behalf of the Worst of the Arab world. Who sells the country to the Japanese government and its subsidized corporations. Who is a mealy-mouthed lying bastard Banker. Who doesn’t give a shit for his dog except as a vote-getter. Welcome to 1992— Mayor Dinkins, who is a… Read more »

Shiny Kitten - Marina Loeb
I’ve Got My Shiny Kitten
Sharon Mesmer

— for Yun Peng Hell yeah I’m skinny. My body is COVERED in skin! But I’ve got my shiny kitten and I am not the same person I used to be. Shopping naked with my shiny kitten is like finding out that Beyoncé is experiencing a powerful yearning to cram my gullet full of Richard… Read more »

off on grand boulevard
Norman Douglas

1. fuck you fuck you fuck you scribbled the self- proclaimed, officially acclaimed, pharmaceutically addle-brained bourgeois poet in morning electric’s light. okay, i added the burgher bit because i’m talking city mouse stalking across town & country mouse, screaming at the wind screen all that streaming text one crazy-making dream. 2. even now, i feel… Read more »

The Viewing
David Rattray

The wife spoke to me by name: “Thanks so much for coming, David.” Some didn’t want to see him. One wouldn’t even go in. I did. I touched his hand. It was as if he were only sleeping, soft and warm. I never felt one so lifelike. They’ve come a long way. After a bit,… Read more »

Call Up
John Farris

Today the world is wet & white: everybody tries to throw the snow back (a girl, determined, handles a shovel gingerly, sends a pile of it scattering; it flies to the court below, exposing a red-stained Kreolite stair, freeing it, contemplation of her handiwork, the novelty of it in her face) to where the rain… Read more »

Kiss of Kind
Carl Watson

Virtue and Fear Stare at each other in the mirror, They feed upon & tease each other Until neither one remembers what it used to be. That mirror’s name is Vanity, It can make a body live in harmony With an improbable costume Or it can make life hell, A reflection of itself that is… Read more »

Last Supper in an Airport
Ron Richardson

Dawdle. Doodle. What to do? Spill an alphabet, spill a stew. Fire the cauldron, eat the bread, soon those waiting will be dead. Down the supper, drink the curse; no matter how dull, death is worse. –Ron Richardson   Photograph by Ted Barron Sensitive Skin 12 available here in PDF format here for just $4.95,… Read more »

Landscape with a Bear in It Somewhere
Rebecca Weiner Tompkins

The limber late light travels across the ridge where the bear climbed. Even with my head thrown back I still can’t take in the tops of the tall pointed trees up there. A friend’s death is flickering in and out of my mind the whole time I’m watching the yellow binding weave slowly, lower and… Read more »