all poems featured in this post originally published in volume 50, issue 3/4


DIDiT

by Anvil Rust

Living in the serpentine society

Contemplating my double helix duality
Pondering possible alternate realities
It’s a fallacy to dwell upon the multiplicities of the lives you lead
As I trod along, I fall upon Autumn
Representing Atum-Ra, Egyptian sun god
My hidden knowledge grows like tropical sod
Living now in what will be the information age
History turns a page
Not submitting to the 9 to 5 wage and lifestyle
That’s cool I listened for a while, now what’s on TV
Someone always chased
The fake soon replaced and let the just take their place
Although sometimes interrogating intellectually
Especially when loss of breath disease is affecting me
It’s Detective G arresting me, not allowing the mind body spirit to be whole
But I held it together at the edge of my realm and went further.


Grandma’s Name

by lee 이 therese

her name was foreign

& fell awkwardly from my mouth

for the better part of my life thus far

Myo·Jin – Korean

묘 – directly translated to ‘grave’

진 – directly translated to ‘true’

i grasp her name like i grasp my father’s hand 

because sometimes

it is the only thing i have to hold


Galapagos

by michael richards

Here I’m Darwin in the Galapagos;
Minding frequencies of finches 
and falling towards Genesis 
at 9.8065 meters per second squared.
Like an apple after newton. 

The haunting tunes of four misused trombones 
crawls through my ears erasing perfect tones
that strove to create nightmares out of light. 

If only dreams appeared while we’re awake…
we’d slip like dogs on ice through time and space
throw away our scented candles 
and slip into a trip at every turn. 

Oh from five to nine and nine to five again
daily routines and reoccurring themes 
of scraping plastic off our sofas
rinsing soup out of our loofahs
when there’s still dreams we’ve never had. 

Oh, I can’t stop wandering. 
What the hell’s the point? 
My ventricles are strained 
and cortex fried,
my hands,
my palms,
my fingers,
all waste away
with Edward Abbey
in that unmarked 
desert grave.