by Michael Prihoda
Sweet Dreams (Ronald Brischetto)
a lip curled
of an off-shoot passage
from a history
by the conservative
of what should
have been a fresh classroom.
your mouth, that
all i know of your head,
& watch as every shade
of red and non-negotioable red at once
dash away to form
a scion against those shades of lipstick
i never borrowed
Reverie #11 (Prilla Smith Brackett)
a memorandum for
a drugstore preoccupation
with child-proof caps
& drawstrings on even more frayed sweatshirts.
the woods do not commune
with how we built our homes
from solace, spirituality,
& the fatness of their trunks.
even in daylight, the trails
offer mouths that grow teeth
as all of this descends
a ladder of degrees & layers
until the forest wipes
with its self-made purity,
contrast an effect to blend our mind
against how early the sun pours
itself down the horizon’s throat.
I’ll Gladly Be the Frame (Jeff Ballard)
i’m waiting for my conversation
scheduled it last week
in a dire moment
transfixed by a laptop
& the essence of
every friend i’ve ever known
being mortally burned at the stake
while i slowly become less
yes, i am afraid.
no, these glasses do not help my ears.
yes, i sometimes affix
new elements to the periodic table.
no, it does not mean i don’t believe
in what they already say i cannot see.
Michael Prihoda is a poet and editor, born and living in the Midwest. He is the author of two chapbooks and the full-length collection Hear (Sein Und Werden Books). He is the recipient of Pushcart and Best of the Net nominations and manages the journal/small press After the Pause.
Glad to see another great lit mag in the market! These poems are amazing.