Empurpled, if caught in the gloaming, before the beam sharpens against true night and reddens the dot into super clarity.
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Something of Home by Brian Simoneau
When you’re young, cities seem magnificent no matter what. Wide-eyed/ you look up to all the buildings crowned with wreaths of ice, speak fondly/ all the streets, mouth full with knowing This is home.
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Hold Your Phone to this Essay and Select Tag Now by Joe Bonomo
I left the bar humming bare traces, the final moments of the song like excavated bones, already fading in the daylight, in the archeology of my head.
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Kablooey is the Sound You'll Hear by Debra Marquart
then plaster falling and the billow of gypsum
after your sister blows a hole in the ceiling
of your brother’s bedroom with the shotgun
he left loaded and resting on his dresser.
Flower Gate and Sea of Gallilee By Kazim Ali
My disobedient body pierces the I
Music drifting landward hand in hand
Two Poems by Charlie Clark
The cafés have a kind
of tea that is just
the temperature and taste
of air breathed in summer