Petrichor, melancholy new poetry by Broede Carmody
Invisible Cities, insightful new poetry by David McCooey
Windborne Avenue, searing new poetry by Louis Klee
Ebon Cans by Stuart Barnes
Melon ball lashed with scarlet,
his body is a half-painted nail
We are bewildered.
What is it holy warriors
hear so clearly at their prayers?
Farewell, the smell of wet acrylic.
White as wave crest, an osprey and its mate
prowl the thermals …
It’s as if the gums are still trying to move—or perhaps
they are moving, but very, very slowly.
I see you’re even younger than me.
Then—a stain of purple
fed by blood. Sarcoma
under peachy fuzz …