high 90s

lip balm grease innuendo
good times please Nintendo
calm, seduced, stupendous
bill my room, follow through
embittered

there's friction in a fraction nanosecond
air is gone and sweat is prone
I'm on, he's in,
joy, pride, rubber souvenirs
tease it and squeeze it so it flows in rivers,
tonguewise

soggy
undressed but by my training socks
let them go too
please let them crawl out
it's you and me making Wii
surfing the crazy heat wave
feeling full circle for the first time
feeding empty random thoughts of sorts:
Magellan's friends just called him Nando


audrey villisac (Indianapolis, IN, 1988)

accidents waiting to happen

should you walk away empty handed
remember the ants, the skills and the black paint
remain professional at all times
be righteous, courteous and gorgeous
no milk spill can make you lose temper

like a loose skateboard in the dark
plugs plugging plugs plugging more plugs
in a wire jungle coming out of that one single outlet
ill-conceived at the sudden blow,
sputtering home, sweet anger

help yourself
help others
sound the alarm
be calm, locate the exits (should they exist)
smile

it could have been me, it could have been you
walking out of the building in flames
accidents waiting to happen
fighting fire with gasoline
lacking courage for in our chests pounded shrinking hearts

kind of we deserved the smoke and all

the blurry vision
the ugly aftermath


ruth labandera (Santa Fe, NM, 1974)

does color matter?

The outside of a black hole
is equally as black as
the inside of a black hole
When discussing black holes
our conversation should
never move passed the color
black
Unless of course we consider
white to be a color
And ask If a black hole is the absence
of matter and white is the
absence of color why isn’t a
black hole white?
I suppose the absence of matter
has nothing to do with
the absence of color

Similarly (though not)
The outside of a person
is equally as colorless as
the inside of that person


john kropa (Redbank, NJ, 1990)

heavy

Clench jaw
heavy lid
misses the breeze
misses the sun

clench jaw
heavy lid
misses the ease
misses the fun

grit teeth
red eyes
knows not the strength
knows not the will

grit teeth
red eyes
knows only the length
knows only the hill

frown mouth
drooping brow
once had the heart
once had the light

frown mouth
drooping brow
has lost the art
has lost the fight


claire audrey gallagher (Fresno, CA, 1991)

a thought or not

The prices of things have changed
and that is very hard to believe.
Our minds stay the same and I still know
which side the groceries are on.
That is something that is taking space in my head,
which can only hold so much.
Perhaps a memory was knocked out so I could remember this fact.
I am guessing it goes something like this:
I am standing the center of the food court wondering
if I should take a horse or a taxi.
It looks like rain and burning buildings,
and I must prepare for this party.
I forget.


garrett west (Detroit, MI, 1984)

ink received from the editor's pen

The trend now is to take song lyrics
and replace one word in the chorus
with a contemporary word
like tweet,
so, for example,
you keep on tweeting my love into the borderline
or
I would tweet anything for love but I won’t tweet that.
It's not plagiarism because we've replaced a verb.
The trend now is to avoid entire elements of language.
This is what I recommend.
Replace any adverb with the name of a television show.
It's something our readers will recognize.
She went down the stairs dancing with the stars™.
Readers will feel their living rooms.
And forget iambic.
It's been done to death.
The hot thing now is to correlate a poem with the speech pattern of
the actress who adopted all those children from Africa.
Pop culture and supporting a cause!
The trend now is to write a haiku
and delete every third word.
It saves us time and space
for ad revenue.
This is what it sounds like
when doves tweet.


bryan borland (Little Rock, AR, 1979)

daughter of a fisherman

I remember two things

November late afternoon sunlight
exclamatory sparkles of dust
upon lashes a fence to blue eyes
the dull scent of cat litter and coffee grinds
&
pacing a guttural song against the glued down tiles
counting pills from green tubes
white miniature cupcake molds, catch,
then dispose down toothless gaps
a sacrament with red ink confessing

walking and watching
a curious peer around corner
lingering waiting strangers in my home
why you here


matthew wedlock (Taunton, MA, 1984)