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Goodbye

By Yuu Ikeda ‘Goodbye’Summer echoes. Although my handsare never able togive up the heat,summer is about toshrink back from my sight. Dawn cries for summer,I write for summer,andfallen leaves ring…

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Afterlife

By Anna Elin Kristiansen Is she okay? This is the first thought that forms in my mind as I come to after my afternoon dozing, surprised, as usual, that I…

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The Garden of Poetry

By Yuu Ikeda In front of me,many flowers of wordsare swaying,emitting seasonal fragrances. Every morning,I breathe in these sweetsometimes bitter scent,every evening,I fill my notebookwaiting forsilhouettes of words,then,every night,I fall…

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Abyss Bloom

By M. Wedlock We are not other people, you and I, we are more skeleton than breath, and in the same inhale, more breath than — a dream I would…

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MOONLIGHT SERENADE

By Lorraine Caputo In the late-hour hoursI am awakenedby the songof the full moon shimmeringupon the rising tide A golden halo surrounds herin that cloud-hazed skybright pewter-blue likethe sea lapping…

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Pieces of Her

By Susan Miller She hasn’t had sex since June.Her tangled hair winds intoa stretched-out green scrunchy,smashed peas streak worn Levis,breasts still leak liquid pearls.She can’t seem to remember wherethe lip…

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Iris

By Susan Miller It all started withthe lines. One pale,one rock solid,staring from a tiny pool of pink. Clanking glasses of cheap Korbel, soggypita, day-old tahini.Their after-midnight, quick-fridge feast. Painting Pooh bypeek-a-boo bunnieson…

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The Little Things

By Susan Miller These were the things he missed,the ones that were supposeto stay silent, shoved down deep.What with all the carnage spillingall over his morning paper forweeks, then months,…

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Ugliest girl in the Room

By Susan Miller She always feltlike the ugliest girl in the room. At6, 16 or 60. Skin that was pale, picked at.Clammy hands,desperate eyes. A hopeless, nagging chorus crackedmirrors in her head.  Not magazine…

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DESERT RAINS

By Lorraine Caputo I. During day’s predawndarkness, the desert night mistis heavier, athin rain gliding off these parchedtin roofs & sear dreams II. In the midnight houra distant patter uponthe…

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MOONLESS NIGHT

By Lorraine Caputo This moonless night isbathed by the orange glow ofstreet lamps. Clouds lie lowon the mountains, then tendrilthrough the folds of this valley. Rain begins again,at first a…

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Publishing the imperfect situations