Poetry
Cynthia Marie Hoffman.
“I don’t know what will / happen, but let’s not rush home to the / leaking faucet just yet, the ants / hauling cat food behind the walls.”
by Vera Kroms.
“On the island / where we landed, radiation /
lit my father up, illuminated / hidden damage…”
by Lisa Mullenneaux.
“Sometimes she read a book, / listening to music. It was as if / if you got too close you might / catch pregnancy.”
by Alene Terzian-Zeitounian.
“If I had a time machine, I would tell / you the suffering isn’t worth the fame”
by Paul Howe.
“For a moment, it lays a white sheet over / the disfigured body of this conflict.”
by Sean Sam.
“The commanders wish me to say / the language beaten from me. / Each time I speak another sun / drops from the abnormal sky.”
I pull up a chair, lower the bedrails. / He bats at my hand. When he finds it, he quiets, / his hand a vice on mine.
I remove the day, strip myself / of the expectations and the pain, / the way my soul strives and my flesh endures