Two Poems by Paul Hellweg

Finally, Hope
Lonely
and wishing for a miracle,
it finally came
in the form
of an e-mail
from a 24-year-old woman
with 8.5 million dollars
who offered to
move in with me
if I would help her
transfer the funds
to this country,
and
all I had to do
to get the money
and the babe
was to be
a little more
gullible
than
I already am.
You’ve Got Mail
are words full of life
and hope and
approbation,
alas,
No New [...]

“I Kept the Nickel,” by Lauren Becker

I kept the address labels. The nickel, too.
The night of the day I used the first label, I dreamed of starving
orphaned children with distended stomachs. They told me I should have
sent the nickel back, along with a generous check and a stamp to save
the charity the cost of postage. I ignored the children and returned
to my [...]

Four Poems by Mr. Smith

Fireworks
I ended it on the fourth of July
But still she cried and threw things at me.
That’s the trouble with American girls:
They don’t ‘do’ Irony.
Thunder
If I’m lying, she said, may the ground open up and swallow me.
And as the words left her lips a sound like thunder filled the air.
 
It was only a passing motorcycle
But Christ, [...]

“GuacamOde,” by Clay Carpenter

How I love guacamole salad
this murky mucky marvel
to eat is to imbibe
Great green gobs of avocado
add onions to create
a dubious delight
Admittedly it is the ugliest
of foods in name
and in appearance
The ignorant may hesitate
to part their lips and
give it clearance
But those who know will swear
that it quite simply
can ’t be beaten
although it begs the question:
is it to [...]

“nobody blinked,” By Ross Leese

I handed in my notice
at work today
and the guy
didn’t even bother
to read it–
just folded it
and place it
in his shirt pocket
like an unwanted
receipt.
told everyone
I was leaving
to become
a poet
a superhero
a spy
a nazi–
nobody blinked.
then marie walks in
asks what happened
on big brother
last night
and
the whole room
explodes
into standing
ovation.
————
Ross Leese is from the North of England and is approaching his thirties very [...]

“Bathroom Bliss,” by Paul Giles

Bachelor Bisazza should not spend a penny on fixing
his Disturbed Mother with grisly treatments: just
one $500 Freedom voucher would clean her up for days.
Look how she whips this poor boy of hers up to
a level of apathy so bad he is committed. His mother
is the first step to happiness in a world gone bad with
Satan’s [...]

“Cousin Paul and Mr. T,” by Joelle Renstrom

Cousin Paul has his spleen out. He gets transfusions as often as I get pistachio milkshakes. Every Christmas, he comes poorer and sicker and angrier. The rivers of veins swell close to the surface, especially near his right temple. His nostrils are permanently flared. I don’t know if these are symptoms. Every Christmas he’s a [...]

Two Poems by Michael Estabrook

“I love football, fuck you.”

“I love football, fuck you,” my wife barks
at me simply for making a humorous,
although disparaging, remark
about her silly Patriots Football Team.
Beginning to wonder if perhaps her focus,
allegiance, and obvious attraction
to these youthful macho hunks
is something I should be concerned about.
.
Way back in high school
I worried about the quarterback
stealing her away [...]

“Old Bird,” by Stephen Jarrell Williams

Time for me to fly
from your gargantuan claws

nest heavy
in your squat

tits like mountaintops
sagging from overuse

wrinkled neck rings
numbering your years

once a beauty
displaying to the gods

naked dance
lines into the woods

now… you’re just shit-faced
featherless and bald.

————-
Stephen Jarrell Williams was born in Virginia, his parents native Texans, and has lived most of his life in California. He has done [...]

“the watchers,” by Jason Barber

surveillance is heavy.
you can never make it.
where do they come from,
plucking shoots of hopes,
prying into the scales?
nobody knows.
they are the space-crawlers.
they are the attic-thumpers.
they live in furniture.
they eat dust and pain.
they resemble dead spiders.
they could be invulnerable.
contortionists changing
the shape of ours-to-come,
they note all that we do.
unlike gremlins,
they keep score.
telepathy is their modus operandi,
whispering sentences to [...]