Most varieties are astringent and sour / unless softened by decay
countless times each mother named Amy / has also been a monster.
Emily Kendal Frey
DADS EAT RICE, TOO (a collaborative poem by the members of OPP: Other People’s Poems)
Dad looked great in his tank top / Dad said, “How are you, really?”
The earth has a curving structure which permits / the roots of the jacaranda to sprout and blossom
Religion and the Ants
You yourselves have seen— / the whole earth is mine and only mine.
Full of More Air
And then I told you / I’m tired of birds / I want you to replace them with pianos
Dena Rash Guzman
A Monster & A Line Away
I was born to make men cry, / so here I go.
Post-internet is very New York. / Post-internet is very Los Angeles.
If You Can’t Take the Heat, Get Out of the Lava
The volcano has a name you know, / written on the tag of its t-shirt.
she wore / a festive red dress / in the snow appeared / like a cut flower
Words are prickling with potential. They can be anything, they might even be themselves.
Black pussy ain’t good. Cry those tears for censored Black Pussy.
WHICH SNOWSTORM IS STILL ALIVE
Which snowstorm / can hear me. / Which human / alights.
Your palm, seed to large for / any animal to carry off.
Zachary Scott Hamilton
Minneapolis, Huffing amylnitrate / at an 8o’s disco, alone
At some point in our lives it is 1998 / and our dresses are wet.
There’s a quality, that means to be / an endorsement, that’s speaking for us.
from A NEW AMERICAN FIELD GUIDE & SONG BOOK
You / Sing star spangled when the house lights go / Down & the pyrotechnics begin.
If you’re looking for trouble / try just looking.
I said Now / for my final masterpiece / and threw a spear into space.
Portrait of My Ex with Giant Burrito
Men have died for less, and I, for one, / never asked for more.
Warlord Subway Jam
plump men need love space and / time expressive red pants
Sara Renee Marshall
Letters for Others: HBM
Under one pleated cloud shelf, / threadbare clouds.
Ruth Ellen Kocher
I could take you in a fight / My white mother sang like Diana Ross
I saw Guy about to expand and was thankful / I saw Khaled’s hair salute hair and was thankful
from THANK YOU TERROR
I swallowed / a dragonfly / & I don’t know / what comes next
The sun sutures this certain edge / and yes, here is where they will / put down their packs
Sarah Louise Garrido
All the stars jittering / before a force of sound. / All the light rising within.
Shadab Z. Hashmi
The Smallest Drone
With a belly full of metal / and no neck / that turns to lock / you in a melting gaze
THE BOOK OF DEVOTIONAL CINEMA AND REPETITION IN THE BLANK
—Where heads are taken for the electricity within. / —Where eyes are left in the woods.
For Your Approval
He tells us what to do with his body. / For his family he will not leave a mess.
Dena Rash Guzman
I Write My Own Stories, Joseph
“I drink more whiskey & more, / and pull at my lone chin hair.”
The Reason My Hair Looks So Neat All the Time
If Matt Lauer had my lifestyle, / he might not have changed his hair.
Short Love Poem
Pollen paints our hands, our skin bakes, basted / with inchworm spittle and stems’ broken juices.
As Israeli Practice Runs Send Sonic Booms through the Night
Our egos silent alarms / meant to be tripped – / up. Over. On!
Michael Martin Shea
from Studies in Apoplexy
there were many of us who wanted an end to it (the hair). This was before we knew its power
The fruits are so giving in their sweetness, / even the sour ones / give sugar.
Alone At Home At Night
I don’t care / What the radio says / It is not a beautiful night
Devi K. Lockwood
But the birds? On that day / rain rose not fell.
THE HITCH IN MY CHARACTER
In this image, my sadness / is a bird, and let’s assume / not blue.
Carrie Purcell Kahler
View from Street
There is a smell that geranium leaves leave, / just the rounded side of sharp
Emily Kendal Frey
LETTER FROM THE BACKSIDE OF MY MIND
The sun is afternoon’s death / Dude, dude, dude, dude
A Long Take Of What It Takes
we needed cowboys so I learned to smoke in the old way as I sat vined to my brooding oak
Okay, I said, but I didn’t relax, / and it hurt to be connected so much.
Packing up Nola
I want / to say ma’am, I understand anxiety: / it’s a baseline. But my mouth is full / of voodoo sugar
Laundromat Owner: A To-Do List
open the washer lids / check for people inside
Baby’s born. Take care of the baby. Great. / A traitor. And we knew he was a traitor.
Dish ran away dopily. Hum- / ming doo-wop.
this is coyote’s dream 4
this must be what / looking-ups call fireside
I’m All Out Of Practice
The candy canes hurt. / I hurt them.
Sally Delehant Haertl
As a Model for Others
I kneel before a grade school drinking fountain / and think about Rosa Parks as I draw in water.
© Ink Node, 2018