Long before I buried my father, he had decided to come back as a flying fish. Now when the brow of my ship scythes through the dull grey ocean, he leaps over the iron hull, slicing the air heavy with smog.
Crossing the gun, the anchor and the cables in one easy flight, he mocks my unease, my iron-clad misery and the gut wrenching bile whose colour I can taste over my thick tongue.
– Paresh Tiwari
-Pat Geyer
Aristarchus, by standing in Alexandria,
Revolved around the Sun;
Whereas another in Alexandria, Ptolemy,
Stood at the Universe’s Center;
And both were right.
The Pharos Lighthouse
paned with mirrors
of the Sea
——Joseph Salvatore Aversano
– Shloka Shankar
Please don’t read beyond the title. This is not a poem, nor is it a haibun, short story, or flash.
It has no beginning, middle or end. No development of any sort. It is here as a no thing, and by reading it you gain nothing. Unless you make it into something.
petals or thorns
a scratch on the surface
of infinity
-Stella Pierides
Crossing the bridge. Bored by a splinter. Tripping, I quicklylook back.
once a time
gnarled wood would
unbent me
– Pat Geyer
– Brendan Slater
Surrounded by graffiti stained walls he talked to us about the importance of love and forgiveness. He asked about our fathers, but before we could give him our answers he choked on a piece of apple pie and died beside the train tracks. We all had a good laugh, after we ran out of tears.
-John McManus
Sweat drips in my eyes. In rainbows I see the arch of a jump shot but I wait. Patient. I didn’t come to win but to kick the kid’s ass. Faking the shot he expects I drive hard to the basket.
summer solstice
I slam dunk on
an 8 foot rim
– Dave Read
Hyphens, indents, comma-
towed words,
creased, crossed,
questioned
till the blanks
are tossed for a recycle
mackerel cloud finding lines for a poem
– Akila G.
the other bunny 