from Issue #1

Corgo Minoru

tiny suns

 death spiral
 where can I be safe from the dark dog if not from
 lively colors and profound oceans or these officers 
 crowding my gaunt anatomy while underneath me
 my lips are around a smokestack.  How come the police
 are not beating these people up I wondered
 by accident, that valley of persons with bank accounts 
 I watched it all, I saw them go, I wanted my money back.
 The landscape ran around unhinged from the sky 

Billy Downs


 saw a butt
 on the subway
 o god my face is tired
 feels like its gonna fall off

 into my pants

 o god my face fell off
 it feels like it peed

 I peed my face
 into my pants
 on the subway 

Doris Gross

gritty street poem

 teeth on the sidewalk
 how did they get there
 I know how
 because I watched the crust punks stomp the old man
 under the streetlight 
 in the parking  lot of Hanks Supermarket.
 I didn’t intervene
 because I kind of suspected that the old man said something or did something
 or worse
 I’m not sure if I remember correctly about the streetlight.
 It’s possible there was no streetlight
 and the light was coming from the side of the supermarket 
just as it's possible that I did something
by doing nothing

Fiona Marango


 Flesh at least three inches thicker in the face area.
 Cave with yellow or orange hollow light.
 Nat King Cole and Natalie Cole play
 in the background, and trapped in the cave
 the captive wonders, They were related, right?
 Married?  Or was one descended from the other?
 A breeze from a turning black tower, a
 cat in the window.  Deposition of being alone.
 Horror of aging skin and the slow drop into death, ha ha.
 “Hand tight around her nineteen year old waist.”
 “When I fall in love with you…You-ou-ou...” 
 I was in the park.  Tiny kittens 
 I want to tear apart.  “Pay the rent.”  Rectify 
 which is sometimes just friendship except or in the middle. 

Andrei Prova


 Outside the bar bent like a maniac and talking talking talking
 darting this way, that, as the others are stationary in their seats
 or at their posts, then abruptly demanding:  “Shall I get
 another drink?  Who wants a drink, I’m buying” and sprinting inside
 then returning outside but everyone’s gone, discovers

 I am alone, alone, alone

 and then they or I too leaves without saying goodbye
 walking solitary down the misty black and white street
 choking on sadness

 independent!  Strange!  Unique!  Crazy  .  .  .  

 Such a sad story . . . such a sad sad story . . . Oh, I have been depressed
 for days . . . Here comes Christmas 

Johnny Rusnak


 what a curious world full of waiting.
 The bent arm of the machine spins around 
 I’m filled with concern and dread
 but also don’t care.
 Because the sun is so sexy.
 I went to check if they busted the water line
 and don’t actually know if that’s what you call it
 but I had no idea what was going on.
 Except they have gone quiet.

 Now they’re at it again
 Its bent yellow arm
 and I’m behind the fence