Issue 19 Poetry
Wine Cup
by J. Scott Brownlee
Juke-joint jewel, I bloom regally here.
See how poor folks pick me like the meat
Queen for a Day
by Emily Carr
five of wands
Brass couplets drift across concrete, succumb to shattered simile
relieved only by the bend of her knee, an elbow resting on
tombstone. The wings of her hipbones line up without comment,
her wet fingers spoon salt.
Lateral Gene Exchange
by Emily Carr
king of cups
She puts her wedding ring in a Bandaid box, her sundress flowers
sideways.
Morning Exercise
by Emily Carr
page of pentacles
What you need to know is her coordinates are elsewhere.
She is working with only a few elements of memory.
Opened Job his mouth—
by Dawn Pendergast
& rote Job I
I do ready
One To The Many To The One
by Dawn Pendergast
Plain as our ways we/I are
embrace wheat fields
Debits
by Dawn Pendergast
They our children
suns for every day
Break it down
by Dawn Pendergast
holy dark land
a wreath of fleas
Fernando Pessoa in Macau
by Emily Stone
I’m sorry, I stole your tapenade and rushed away as you approached, anticipating that you would move this admixture of cultures from one refrigerator to the next. There are now more McDonalds in China than there are in the world.
Estrangeiros no Alentejo
by Emily Stone
Through lucid high altitude dreams of deadlines and popular demands, I say we should have a big house, a plunging, backlit estate with grounds, with a private road, gardens, a square of solid red earth for the helicopter. Jubilant rebels sweep Tripoli and we smile high-cheek-boned at each other.
