“What Is the Way to Be Very Quiet but NOT Antisocial About It?”, Ace Boggess

we have learned the alien language of self- erasure. still as if studying a book though no words fill a page before us with their sorrow & small talk. who interrupts our seated dancing, enjoyment of a song we don’t recognize over the in-house stereo? strangers talk to us whether we savor it or don’t,Continue reading ““What Is the Way to Be Very Quiet but NOT Antisocial About It?”, Ace Boggess”

Fuck you Ellen: if you sleep easy knowing your friends facilitate others’ suffering you ain’t shit, gwendalynn roebke

On the sidelinesof spectacleFeelingWickedFor enjoying the luxuries ofEmpireChocolate tastes a lot likeFamineRed, white, and blueBlurInto bombed out civilian villagesAnd mass burialsEmpathy fatigue is a privilegeBest choked down with a mug ofbrewed exploitationDon’t understand how folx can carry onBreaking bread with demonsJust because they don grinsGiving the performance of outrageCheck who sits at your tableSee whoContinue reading “Fuck you Ellen: if you sleep easy knowing your friends facilitate others’ suffering you ain’t shit, gwendalynn roebke”

Forgive Me, Ace Boggess

for sharing my will for a deadened heart,lust-numb understanding,when you wished incineration from within; for being a body that lay next to your body,not of your body any morethan the Persian is of the lioness; for having right words to eradicatestinging weeds you carried with you,never vines you dangled after; for neither acknowledging nor counteringContinue reading “Forgive Me, Ace Boggess”

We Had to Turn the Sound Down, Gerald Yelle

You were wrestling in your sleep, which left me free to explorethe outdoor museum sculpture garden cathedral in the woodsthe dustbowl shrine and warmonger’s paradisenow a dumping ground for dead batteries and cheesecloth.A gravel pit for penance and eating sour-cream and meatballs.I bore the torch to the unisex outhousewhere music still blares –so no oneContinue reading “We Had to Turn the Sound Down, Gerald Yelle”

The New Summer, Ace Boggess

Can’t stray in heat beyond a single cigarette.Sweat pulls its raincoat tight against your chest.Pollen’s a noxious vapor more chthonic than parachuting.The paper reports Lone Star ticks are spreading this year,ones that change your body so you can’t eat meat.Weatherman says spring is the new summer,which must make summer the coming ruin.Dog days will leaveContinue reading “The New Summer, Ace Boggess”

Apnea, Gerald Yelle

They slicked their hair in their mothers’ tears and when their mothers told them wash behind your ears, they’d pretend their mothers said rears –as in friends, Romans, countrymen. Their mothers said yeah, of course, be sure to wash there too. Because they anticipate the jokes –they know their sons better than their sons knowContinue reading “Apnea, Gerald Yelle”

Leaning Against a Back Porch Railing in Hammond, Louisiana; Jason Braun

* Jason Braun holds master’s degrees in English and Educational Technology. He has taught English or designed courses for various universities full-time for the better part of a decade. He has published fiction, poetry, reported or been featured in The Riverfont Times, Prime Number, ESPN.com, Big Bridge, The Evergreen Review, SOFTBLOW, The Nashville City Paper, Jane Friedman’s blog, The Chronicle of Higher Education, andContinue reading “Leaning Against a Back Porch Railing in Hammond, Louisiana; Jason Braun”

“Do You Hang Out with Any of the Old Bunch?”, Ace Boggess

(question asked by Amy Sturm) Easy to crave the road leading back,thumb a lift through our historytoward the last town, faces familiarif blurred & yellow in old photos.We should go there sometime,scouting memories hiding behind shrubs,holding comfort hands & waiststo protect each other from curseswe laid upon our lives long ago. I’ve encountered strangers,stranger likeContinue reading ““Do You Hang Out with Any of the Old Bunch?”, Ace Boggess”

Savior, Steve Deutsch

In her last yearsmom took to the lotterylike a robed devoteetakes to prayer. Each morning at elevenshe would darken the boxesof the day’s lottery picks,carefully transcribingfrom a penciled crib sheet.She would no morehave the computer choose numbersthan make her coffeein one of thoseautomated eyesoressoon to leave our planetknee-deep in plastic pods. Every eveningshe would stationContinue reading “Savior, Steve Deutsch”

Life Remains On, Patricia Walsh

Nerves shredded in a beating car,the announced event puts its red shoes on,bringing up statuses to eventually abuse,the stolen church buildings lie in ruins. This doesn’t interest me at all. Amusing though,the various appendages laughing out loud,wading through destiny to a total annihilationgutting advice remains at the door. Good taste and food, free to takeContinue reading “Life Remains On, Patricia Walsh”