The Tracks by Diana Radovan, Regular Contributor Life and death — two parallel lines. In between you — …
Bats in Bridgeport
Bats in Bridgeport by Frank G. Karioris, Regular Contributor Softpaws on sofas in basement brick buildings, this evening snow keeps …
Lullaby for Revolution
At our most dangerous we are two girls in a loft. We spin plans of children’s children: no one’ll play …
Elegy in Which Everyone Stays Alive
After Olivia Gatwood In this poem, missing girls brush their hair and hummingbirds fly out from underneath. I …
A marvel, but not a surprise
I marvel at what we could have done, should have done, what seemed so silly & left us unplugged. More …
Rx Poetry | A Millennial Stares into the Abyss and the Abyss Sends her a Revolution of Love
And more than anything, we must hold each other accountable to the damage we do when we are personally unkind. This is worse than a physical virus. This kills more people every day than Covid-19 will ever kill.
The Late Winter Cold
The lungs broil so I stop eating. Become less.
Every scent siphons through the filter of flow.
The body is a river upheaving itself, pulling
from its long-known bed and twisting into an
unknown course, with new lines and cracks
and valleys to learn.
Time Capsule
My mom’s pearls, old family photos, all the dogs and some cats, my family, the Atlantic Ocean, the movie we …
Ballad for the Streets of History
Ballad for the Streets of History Lincoln Park, Chicago A balcony of books we stand amidst yesterday’s and former …