Category: Poetry

Ismail

Oisín Breen is a poet, part-time academic in narratological complexity, and financial journalist. Dublin born Breen’s widely reviewed debut collection, Flowers, all sorts in blossom, figs, berries, and fruits, forgotten was released in March 2020 by Edinburgh’s Hybrid Press.

Primarily a proponent of long-form style-orientated poetry infused with the philosophical, Breen has been published in a number of journals, including the Blue Nib, Books Ireland, the Seattle Star, Modern Literature, La Piccioletta Barca, the Bosphorus Review of Books, the Kleksograph, In Parentheses, Kairos, and Dreich magazine.

Bull Thistles

STEVEN O. YOUNG JR. lives on the rim of Detroit, where he received an MA from Oakland University. He spends some days painting the floor of a soundstage layer after layer, occasionally by request. His works have appeared and/or are forthcoming at Freeze Frame Fiction, 101 Words, The Drabble, and West Trade Review.

The First (Reprise)

the first from the frog pond

steal the last of the sunlight,

leaving charcoaled

fishbones of cloud.

in various shades of opened

or shut, these dandelions

we step on retreat

into the solitude of moonlight.

DANIEL J FLOSI sometimes thinks they are an apparition living in a half-acre coffin within the V of the Mississippi and Rock Rivers. They are a poetry reader at Five South. Their work has appeared or is forthcoming in Not Deer Magazine, The Closed Eye Open, The Good Life Review, Zero Readers and Wild Roof Journal. Drop a line on Twitter: @muckermaffic.

Sin

MARC ALAN DI MARTINO is a Pushcart-nominated poet, translator and author of the collection Unburial (Kelsay, 2019). His work appears in Baltimore Review, Rattle, Rust + Moth, Tinderbox, Valparaiso Poetry Review and many other journals and anthologies. His second collection, Still Life with City, is forthcoming from Pski’s Porch. He lives in Italy.

Cleaning Up

I leave a trail behind me, 

socks curling into themselves like snails,

bits of paper furled like dying leaves.

Everything is mossed with dust. 

My hair falls and catches, 

silver webs snagged by corners, 

pieces of me bedded on the carpet, 

the padded rug simulating earth’s softness.

I want to be kneeling, wrist deep 

in something pungent, 

roots ringing my fingers,

dirt crusting my hands.

I’ll let the earth carry parts 

of me away. Give my eyelashes 

to the slugs blinking coyly

as they nibble the marigolds,

my mouth to the mushrooms, 

those apples of the earth

blooming from subterranean networks,

my nose to the sweet grasses

braided by wind,

my fingers slipping under

a fuzz of fungus, a furred 

blanket reclaiming life to life.

ESTHER SADOFF is a teacher and writer from Columbus, Ohio. Her poems have been featured or are forthcoming in South Florida Poetry Journal, Drunk Monkeys, Wingless Dreamer, Free State Review, Parhelion Literary Magazine, Passengers Journal, SWWIM, and many other publications.

Commute

CAMILLE NEWSOM

Another dark morning I feel less than ready

to teach adolescents about how their dying world works—

no sex or sea levels, with evolution I should expect

seven AM arguments with moms and dads.

There’re the smoke stacks again, orange in the sunrise

and the cantina sign, what power to always emit

the brightest neon. Clutch in, 2nd gear, whoops—

a stale yellow.

I wish I could write like I’m from the Midwest,

find metaphors for broken porch swings in August,

aromas of meatloaf and manure,

or to see the water tower in the distance,

to hear the windchimes and watch old women

in periwinkle nightgowns, walking dogs at dusk.

I should have called grandma back.

She could be dead any day now.

I guess that’s true for us all.

Amber leaves are still on the ground.

Nothing changed since fall passed

away one month ago. The moon faints

from exhaustion, the children wait for the

bell, and I’ve left today’s purpose

on my bedroom nightstand.

CAMILLE NEWSOM is a middle school science teacher in Colorado Springs, CO. She finds inspiration for her creative work in the joys and challenges of teaching adolescents about the odd mechanics of the world.

letters

KATARZYNA STEFANICKA

once they were touched 

hand-crafted

squeezed in the margins

rubbed into the folds

in the middle

spaced with silence

dressed-up at tails-end

withstanding

pressures of life on paper

KATARZYNA STEFANICKA is a psychologist with an interest in psychoanalysis and writing. Most recently she published with Rue Scribe. She lives, works and writes in London.