Poetry

“Pająk,” by Anna Pisarka

Aug 20th, 2020 | By

A lazy glance up from the keyboard and I meet the eight eyes of doom.
Fuck.
My thoughts slip out from underneath me,
Two legs worthless against the icy battlefield of nature.



Two Poems by Neil Fulwood

Aug 20th, 2020 | By

Holiday tomorrow: I’ve got to pack.
A fortnight’s break—there’s lots to pack.

At least a dozen detective novels
Riddled with serpentine plots to pack.



“Substitution,” by E. Laura Goldberg

Aug 20th, 2020 | By

The white square bowls
with their curved sides
align in the dishwasher
neatly overlapping.



“The Sample Man,” by Riley Wood

Aug 20th, 2020 | By

Sample man
Sample man
Handing out crackers all day
That’s an ample plan
People ran
When his shift began



“Cures for the 1918 Flu,” by Kathryn Pratt Russell

Aug 20th, 2020 | By

Open the farmhouse windows in December. Pack the patient in ice. All nurses must wear fur coats.

Crank start the car. Get some medicine, any medicine, from the general store.

If the mother can’t breastfeed, give the baby coffee with sugar.