Slumbering Savannah by Joni Caggiano

The swamp claws its way through the mud. Water moccasin waking late in the winter’s artful sun. Hiding in the putrid belly of the forsaken shade of the brown-haired trees, he lay gazing. He sees in black and white. Stalking prey with a proud skinny neck and blockish head, he hunts. Choctaw child, feet raw…

Nowhere Slow by Bogdan Dragos

Oh God, here she comes again by my window with her dog on a leash and now the noise begins It’s not barking. I wish it was barking but instead it’s crying, making those whimpering sounds children make when they try to hold a cry in The full cry of some creatures is like the…

Wounds by Sheereen Fatima

There are shadows haunting my dream. The blood drips laced in ice. The fire within, a trembling leaf, I coil in my shell away from the light in the tumultuous sea. It rains horror and acid burning my parched skin. There are unhealed wounds with little lives taking their origin. I am broken, wounded, barren,…

To Whom am I by Steve Gun

Writing for the sufferer Weights for the social loser Mountains to climb for the madman Music for the emotionally sensitive Netflix, wives, and husbands for the soul robbed workers Alcohol for the man that has nothing Nothing for the recluse who wants nothing Whatever consoles is based out of who you are To whom suffers…

Pressure by Bogdan Dragos

she slept with a small, thin Batman plushie between her breasts and often woke up with it soaked in sweat The poor Batman looked diseased, crushed, and suicidal. Clearly he was facing a villain he could not hope to defeat It was the dreams that made her sweat so There was much pressure in her…

Noses Bleed White by Joni Caggiano

dahlias budding in arid Culiacan gold and silver shine in your sun   mines giving death to fledglings evil rapes the earth, stealing her bounty pacific wind blows humanity backward  as do closed eyes of stiff cartel coke bleeds noses pink and scarlet death calls naïve lovers in silk sheets as a sex slave dies from…

Aftershock by Joni Caggiano

her face resembles the pathways of a troubled life hair so white it was spun by the moon’s shadow sitting at a table molded from an ancient cypress tears float from olive eyes opening her fissuring lips black roses and screams of old fuse with smells splitting wind gray sky seeps into falling ash a…

Scars of Lockdown by Lamittan Minsah

Dark clouds and muffled talks tore the atmosphere at the first case. Then came the rules, and people in town both big and small wore a visor, as the air, it was said, was very clatty. Bitter news daily, so we shunned hearing more of the rising death tolls, the great disposition of our foe:…