Eric Pankey ~ Four Poems


How to dis­tin­guish a trick
Of the eye
From wind in a chest­nut

Or wak­ing from dream
Where bound­aries
Dissolve and give way

The body strapped
To its shad­ow
Weighs no more

The alphanu­mer­i­cal
Values of let­ters
Do not make the name

Of God any more say-able
All knowl­edge is arcane
And thus pre­vents

Easy access
To the imma­nent beyond
It’s hard to get used to

As when detained By

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Jeff Friedman ~ Three Prose Poems


I leave my aro­ma, strong enough to put out the lights or clear a room, to Cassie, my veg­an lover, who can use it to pro­tect her patch of veg­eta­bles and plants. I leave a pile of hair to my pil­low, to the many dust bun­nies leap­ing from room to room, to the finch­es look­ing for fur to line their nests. I leave all my best insults to Sri Lanka, for­mer­ly Louis, who has stolen most of them any­way

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Claire Polders ~ Four Micro Fictions


On the ter­race across the street below the elms in fick­le light, you eat dish­es that are nei­ther here nor there. Facing the canal, you low­er your spoon into your bowl of soupçon and come up emp­ty, as though the dash of salt is just an idea. You stab your fork into a gen­er­ous cut of some­thing dark, wait­ing for the blood to sprout, and instead meet the resis­tance of a slice of toast­ed

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