[sort] Poems, by Mark Cunningham

Apr 20th, 2014 | By

They shared a moment, but he still got the half with the most cranberries. I said, “You know how good friends can just sit and say nothing,” and she said, “Shut up.” He said the medicine “dissipated tumors beyond belief,” and I hope he’s right, because I don’t believe him. After she started watching zombie movies, she made me take a cold shower before we had sex.

“The Feng Shui of true love,” by Buff Whitman-Bradley

Apr 20th, 2014 | By

No matter how many times
I moved around my inward lamps
And tables and chairs
To please the various
Interior decorators and remodelers
I’d fallen for

“Lesser Known Literary Cocktails,” by Eric K. Auld

Aug 20th, 2013 | By

The Waiting for Godot: Place two ice cubes in an empty tumbler. Watch them melt as nothing else happens. Wait until morning. Repeat.

The Wasteland: Pour everything you have into the largest glass you’ve got. Hand it all over to Ezra Pound and watch him change everything. Garnish with footnotes.

“A Pinteress’ Someday,” by Katie Seeley

Aug 20th, 2013 | By

We can be modern day mannequins—

Malleable forms of constant perfection.
We are Stepford wives with a mouse’s click.
Pinterest allows us to be anything.
Pinterest allows us to be everything.
Renaissance women reorganizing:
homes transformed with wine corks and mason jars.
And don’t forget glitter. Always glitter.

“The Box,” by Mikaela von Kursell

Aug 20th, 2013 | By

…was always there
a little box in the corner of the screen.
If you clicked it,
It beeped.
If you clicked out of it,
It beeped.
If you clicked around it,
It beeped.

“What We Are,” by Jordan Moffatt

Aug 20th, 2013 | By

We’re all just leaves
Waiting to fall

We’re all just guitars
Waiting to be played

“The end of my vampire boyfriend,” by Anna Della Zazzera

Aug 20th, 2013 | By

It was Monday
when you burned up,
in a swell of
fire and brimstone.

“Girl on Barbie,” by Susan DiPronio

Apr 20th, 2013 | By

You have Barbie dolls in your basement
with tiny shoes and tiny other things.
How’s her hair ? Sticky?
I always thought she used a little too much product.
Do you love her? Do you touch her?
Is she strapped in a box or out and about
peeking in on you.

“Bobby,” by Dan Nielsen

Apr 20th, 2013 | By

I thought I saw
floating above
the bed,

“Risk and Relativity,” by Maria Bonsanti

Apr 20th, 2013 | By

I have never tasted locust-borne starvation,
or been forced to swallow ancient misbeliefs;

I have never run from engine-driven sea waves,
or been thirsty on an island cuffed with reefs.