yellow ants surrender to two halves of sky
Laila Brahmbhatt
Like Rod Serling
A water main bursts & swallows a car. You had to be there. Same with the yeti. You know what I mean.
snOw
snow
NO
LeRoy Gorman
TIME GARDEN
Time’s not sands, it’s gardens.
Not hot and granular and soulless
but sprouting, blooming,
shrinking, reverting to its dormant state.
Not hot and granular and soulless
but sprouting, blooming,
shrinking, reverting to its dormant state.
Time’s not the footprints, so fragile,
they can’t survive the following tide.
It’s the promise even in the dying stem,
the curled up, rotting petals.
Along the beach, kids build castles
no one lives in, adults tan skin that’s soon to fade.
The garden goes about time’s business.
Its roots can’t help themselves.
John Grey
poem
ramen slurping until decompression
Martina Matijević
Poem
Jerome Berglund
3 poems
from contemplative AI to consuming lobsters
breathe in breathe outsourcing the hexagon
given 400 thoughts spring
Stella Pierides
2 poems
go to settings the outer planets
saying is believing circus sunset
Tim Murphy
Postcard
The postcard of the market square has a grey figure in hat and long coat at bottom right, caught in mid-dash, blurred by movement, striding towards the frame, out of the picture. Look out: the same figure is glimpsed in the street corners of other postcards, always hurrying somewhere else.
Mark Valentine
Poem
hurricane lamps reflections of melted ice cream and blown away iguana
Pris Campbell
Hoteling
Bedding and breakfasting: a metaphor living in substitution, droning for a slot, looking up the flower and getting seeing blindsided, a mailbox by the roadside waiting for a home…
random dots
a red winged black bird
hopes to be born
Biswajit Mishra
the other bunny 