Skip to Content
Search Results
Bianca Lynne Spriggs

To the woman I saw today who wept in her car

By Bianca Lynne Spriggs Woman,
I get it.
We are strangers,
but I know the heart is a hive
and someone has knocked yours
from its high branch in your chest
Tara Hardy

THE NINE

By Tara Hardy They call it dissociation.
I call it THE NINE (children)
who live inside me.
Each of them encased
in amber, frozen in a mosquito-pose
Doritt Carroll

intermittent apnea of unknown causation

By Doritt Carroll the first time it happened
i thought i was being strangled
four fingers compressing each side of my throat
no air
beyza ozer

When I Kiss You, A Casket Opens

By beyza ozer this is not terrorism

this is toxic masculinity

made in the USA

when my mother hears

about orlando

she doesn't look at me
Joseph Green

Talk Ugly

By Joseph Green This poem is in video format.
Deborah A. Miranda

Almost Midnight

By Deborah A. Miranda Wife and dogs have gone to bed.
I sit here with the front door open.

Crickets sing patiently, a long lullaby
in lazy harmony. Rain falls

Seema Reza

Quartering

By Seema Reza When the soldier knocks on your door, billet book in hand, move aside
to let him enter. He will wipe his feet, remove his hat
(you’ll learn to call it a cover)
he will be polite, place his rifle by the door
Caits Meissner

Loving the Enemy

By Caits Meissner of course there were gaps I kept my eyes
shuddered up my curiosities strapped
amnesia on as a mask but only the dead do not dream.
Aricka Foreman

Dream Coated with Fluoxetine

By Aricka Foreman When the hollow grows thick, she prescribes
20 mg to take every morning for four to five days,
then increase as tolerated. Take it with fish oil and
a book of artificial light, try not to repeat the question.
Katy Richey

Depression Insists We Stay In

By Katy Richey There’s not a single thing in your closet
that should be worn after 1997.
You do look fat in those pants,


Page 1 of 4 pages