Clara Burghelea

The almost baby comes down to cuddle every night,its sweet breath poking a holeinto my chest, I stay wrappedin my covers, my bucking heart,its love-grief ticking, itches itselfinto the flesh, let me stich youonto my thigh, I whisper, dreamthe loamy scent of your melonhead from inside my womb,before daylight presses nakedlyagainst all surface, everythingpurples and…

Dorty Nowak

Mandarins Your breath evaporates.I rise, a creased travelerdamp as my pillow. And yet, how morningsunlight scrubs the kitchen,brightens a scarified table where a delft bowl, oncecrisp blue, holds mandarins,bulbous as tiny pumpkins,glowing like harvest moons, a gift from a friend whohoped they’d bring good luckand better times ahead. Coffee hums my veins.My nails bite loose…

Alexander Lazarus Wolff

CW: suicidal ideation/self-harm Hourglass Alone, one watches as the hourglassdrips its fine red sand. Time streams forth —the orange streaks in the skymelt away, unveiling a mauve dotted with stars: this is the end of a tedium.I look at the stillness of the sand in its glass.It rests in the drop-clear crystal bulb.I turn to…

Ace Boggess

Glad to See You’re Doing Well Your house, your cats—the onewith shaved punk head from chemo—your books of spells,your fantasies you haven’t read. Your house, your half-stitched quilts,your couch so soft to sink into itfeels like narcotic drift. Your house, your memories,your past unsafe like mineyou circle before diving in. Your house, your bedrooma revision…

Linda M. Crate

maybe they’ll give me apologies you wanted every kneeto bow before you,didn’t like that i threw a swordproving you could bleed; you made yourself a godwhen you were nothing morethan a mere man and i wanted them toknow just who they worshipped— & to my immense surprisemost of them still supported you, but one day…

John Abbott

His Curse All the men in his family died young:Bad heart, bad lungs, bad luck.A curse that left the women widowsAt an awkward age – too old to remarryBut too young to give up desire completely. The family spoke of the grim traditionBehind closed doors, away from the young ones,But he knew. He listened on…

Andrey Gritsman

EMPTY HOUSE BY HUDSON House abandoned,even traces of souls evaporated.No one will die there anymore.Nobody prepares the bed.I am just a passerby,incidental traveler.And I am calm, my returnsecured. For some reasonmy soul’s in the empty house.It calls come backto the dark corners, to dust.This is my regular stroll,passing the house,passing myselfon the road unknown. Translated…

Nidhi Agrawal

The three poems are located below the introductory paragraphs, but we recommend reading the introduction to fully appreciate these works. Introduction In India Lord Shiva is known as the Father God and Goddess Durga is referred to as the Mother Goddess from the age of the Indus Valley Civilization of Mohenjo-Daro and Harappa (The civilization…

George Freek

I PONDER THE FUTURE (After Su Tung Po’s ‘Autumn’) The summer’s lilies are gone.They’ll never come back.The autumn chrysanthemumsare also fading.They’re turning black.What beauty is there in winter?I hear a cardinal whistlehis lonely cry.‘Look at me’, he seems to say,raising his despondent head.Perhaps he just missed a grub.He’ll also soon be dead.I know rivers still…