Strip tree bark to breath the rot
reading accumulated fear brew
filter coffee tasting sweeter lot
above tongue that tear through
nail deep on horizon brown red
claw clinging onto narrow faith
i hope my nose sticks out mud
while buried in a shallow grave.
by PAKARCHA VYADHI
© All rights reserved 2025
i don’t wanna agree just to keep the peace
don’t gotta force myself to bend to your crease
it would be better for you to desist & cease
so i’m no longer subject to your caprice
just ‘cos i’m a lady
don’t make you my superhero
just a supervillain
in other words, i would like you to sod off
before this turns into a lifelong stand-off
something ’bout your face really puts me off
like it’s not your face but some creepy knock off
please don’t call me baby
or i’ll paint the goddam walls
with your guts vermillion
i suspect you’re a lizard wearing human skin
lemme press this shotgun ‘neath your weak chin
aerate that area with some ballistic spin
get a three-pointer, dunk your head in a bin
by TETIANA ALEKSINA & TONY SINGLE
© All rights reserved 2024
you can’t seriously believe
that the rabble will become tamer
if you let them rattle the bones
paint their faces with bird droppings
and kill one another out of fear
aren’t we all demons in sunlight
perched on the corpses of angels
aren’t we all angels in shadow
presiding over flesh and bone
you can’t seriously believe
that billionaires are ethical
or in their dreams of conquering mars
when the rabble are crushed by mad cars
and clip one another out of fear
aren’t we all demons in sunlight
perched on the corpses of angels
aren’t we all angels in shadow
feasting on feather, flesh and bone
you can’t seriously believe
that they seriously believe
they’re the villains of their stories
in such apocalyptic dreams
fighting high and low out of fear
aren’t we all demons in sunlight
perched on the corpses of angels
aren’t we all angels in shadow
pricking with pitchforks feather and bone
by TETIANA ALEKSINA & TONY SINGLE
© All rights reserved 2024
We return to the beginning, stripped
of our knowledge and rank, bound in white:
a shroud, a swaddling blanket, a bride’s veil,
a drawer stuffed full of rags and bandages.
Trussed up in white and left naked by fear.
The brutal say I don’t learn anything —
that’s why I no longer seek the brutal
as teachers, their blood my blood, their hiss
and spit so familial. Let gentleness
teach me these most difficult lessons
that I must begin again, without rank
or honor to learn a gentle way.
Or perhaps it is the easiest
of tasks: drop your knowledge, begin again
a blank page awaiting a love song —
by WHITECATGROVE
© All rights reserved 2024
“they say” Elsa is on the way;
ready ourselves for the inevitability
of thunderstorms
yet the sun is skydiving
without a care in the world and
I’m growing skeptical.
I want to be prepared;
steer clear of windows and
shut down all electronic devices
in a timely manner;
I can’t help it–every time there’s
a storm, I hear my mother’s voice;
“Turn off those lights and
that damn tv! God is talking!”
shouldn’t I be mindful if
in fact, God IS speaking?
meteorologists are tapping their
pointers at markers on their
maps, unsure of exact touchdown
points yet “We should be on the
lookout” for damaging winds
and heavy rain
and every year, during
hurricane season, my anxiety
levels are heightened.
there’s a new storm named
ever other day, it seems . . .
why does the ocean argue
with the sky?
who is monitoring its raised voice
or defending the shores
and the pleading animals?
Elsa may show up with
a pent-up wrath buried inside
her and I say, “let it rip but
just have mercy.”
the souls of man
could use a cleansing.
by TRE
© All rights reserved 2021
unbolt me 