crowded with green shifting this flesh to make room
to a small white bowl adding another dead bee
worrying flower i sever my head
Lisa Espenmiller
crowded with green shifting this flesh to make room
to a small white bowl adding another dead bee
worrying flower i sever my head
Lisa Espenmiller
Huff and puff and I’ll blow
She collects the overspill straw from attempts at a crib
Huff and puff and I’ll blow
She collects all the sticks from the stick men game they got tired of playing
Huff and puff and I’ll blow
She sees it up there over chimney of brick
back hole
insert the moon
here
coral pink
the penny drops
no light
How weird was that a howl in the dark
Diana Webb
Diana Webb
pszren
John Papas
The Other Bunny will pick up again, shake its sleepy feathers and is again inviting you to send your kind of poetry:
The Other Bunny is no longer a haibun journal!
prose poems
lyrical prose
fragments of sentences
pointless prose
pointless poems
useless poems
very short poems (just poems, not especially “haiku”; haikai is a bit tedious, right?)
Again: write your own stuff and do not send any crying/private-hurt-stuff. But keep it short.
Send a maximum 5 poems or 3 prose poems at a time and no simultaneous submissions. to: tob@megaga.dk
He practices techniques to ignore, explain, reconcile his daily affronts, fact that whole life is founded atop the graves, upon the backs of others, he was baptized in sweat and blood squeezed from countless invisible turnips, a rainbow of tones, oceans away. Likes to call it affirmations, being grateful, employing positive thinking…
tank on low
the bird pauses, gorges itself
to get back aloft
Jerome Berglund
cohesion among the shards
kintsugi
folding custody triangulations
into a kite
Kelly Sauvage Moyer/Agnes Eva Savich
The doctor prescribes a stimulant. His patient rampages. A sedative is then tried. The sufferer falls asleep at his wheel, causes a thirty car pileup. Injured casualties become addicted to obligatory pain meditations, when scripts expire switch to available street equivalents, take up lives of vice, careers in crime to treat the agonizing pains and debilitating withdrawal symptoms resulting from attempts to curb their intake, wean themselves clear. Their pill pushers, sanctioned and unofficial, compare notes at different lodges among orgiastic bacchanals, waited on hand and foot by trafficked courtesans, many of whom they recognize as past or present patients and consumers. They exploit their acquaintance, take advantage of positions to chisel them a bit more; knowledge of desperate neediness provides a phenomenal means of haggling rates down until they become quite competitive.
cannibals
cook month’s worth, seal in tupperwares
family-style meal prep
Jerome Berglund
the spider in the room
plastic plants
this pain is historical,
says the therapist
Kelly Sauvage Moyer/Agnes Eva Savich