Sour beer, sweet victory for Council
"You can go to any brewery and get an IPA."
Ian Anderson noon, June 25
Poetry
Facebook posted only the words “Go outside.”
“Why?” is the obvious question. “Because I love birds,” he says.
Thoughts at the End of Empire It’s possible future generations will destroy our art, literature, music, film, and corporations, in bitterness for allowing ecosystem collapse, and mistrust for how many leaders were distracted, apathetic, selfish, ...
Watching logs ignite flaring, listen for the charred rhymes
Three poems by Adrian Ernesto Cepeda
On the Balcony of The Signature “I like her; I could watch her the rest of my life.” — Philip K. Dick As my best man handed me a bubbly drink we toasted clinking clear ...
When Your Head Went Through the Windshield...
Two poems by Vincent Trimboli
When Your Head Went Through the Windshield It Reminded Me That Grief Sounds Like Whip-Poor-Wills We bury you a little more each Tuesday. The sky today is carnival-glass. The way the wind blows. Your destruction ...
When June comes dancing o’er the death of May
Three poems by Claude McKay
A Memory of June When June comes dancing o’er the death of May, With scarlet roses tinting her green breast, And mating thrushes ushering in her day, And Earth on tiptoe for her golden guest, ...
He never tried to seduce their girls or boys
Two poems by Larry Johnson
Love Poem Your love is gentle only as the earth is gentle: You are a truth of the myriads her soils And brine can breed, protect with humid fumes, Then obliterate in possessive innocence. Men, ...
No doubt it is a selfish thing/ To fly from human suffering
Two poems by W.H. Davies
In May Yes, I will spend the livelong day With Nature in this month of May; And sit beneath the trees, and share My bread with birds whose homes are there; While cows lie down ...
We’re measured by measures we take
Three poems by John Lyon
The Measure of Man The word and the world and the weather Are measured by meters we make. What’s given is given; however We receive only what we can take. So we take what we ...
Being young, I knew I’d never die
Time is just the fast before the feast
On Receiving a Death’s Head Rosary Some twenty years ago, I was eighteen And being young, I knew I’d never die And came to Rome, the oldest place I’d seen And in St. Mary’s church, ...
The kids are drunk, acting like adults
Three poems by Robbie Forsyth
Literature 309B, Modern to Multicultural American Literature In the upper division Lit classes there’s a loose interpretation of truth. The instructor faintly prompts discussion and each student speaks, one at a time, as in a ...
The Know-it-all and the Space Invader
Fishing poems from Mesa College
Scott Starbuck, a writing and literature coordinator at Mesa College, is the author of Lost Salmon (MoonPathPress) from which the following excerpts are taken. Know-it-all If it can be caught, shot, bought, or trophy-mounted, he’s ...
Such a tiny little box to carry a soul
Two poems by Mark DiFruscio
Remains Such a tiny little box to carry a soul Faux wood with a walnut coat What does it hold? One foot wide and six inches deep, large enough for a person 170 pounds before ...
