Category Archives: poetry

Sad Person’s Club by Ian Starttoday

The Sad Person’s Club meets once a week

in a cramped church basement

It doesn’t matter why you’re sad

It could be divorce it could be the death of a loved one it could be the supermarket no longer stocks your favorite kind of frozen yogurt

We make an effort not to judge

 

There was a woman named Shelly once who was really distraught about tomatoes

When we asked her to elaborate

she told us to back off

and flashed her teeth

That was weird

 

But it’s up to you whether you want to talk

or not talk

The only rule we have is that you be sad

If you smile even once

perpetually mopey-faced Bruce will escort you to the door

and then you leave

 

One of our longest running members

once got a call mid-meeting

that his daughter had been born

Bruce came to him

wished him congratulations

but informed him that he had to leave this instant

 

Halfway to the door the man became very gloomy about having to leave

and told us so

We’re not monsters

so he was invited to stay

 

Then two of our members admitted

they were feeling very happy about this man’s good fortune at having brought a healthy baby into the world

and they were asked to leave

 

It was all very complicated

and not particularly sad

which is our business.

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Love Poem by Ian Starttoday

I wrote a poem

and every line

is another reason why I love you

why you’re the only one

why I’ll never take you for granted

and why I’ll never hurt you again

 

except for the last line,

that’s a grocery list of the things

I’d like you to pick up

after we’ve kissed and made up.

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two poems by Rich Boucher

Entendre

Her eyes widened,
and she gasped
as I entered her

cubicle.

 

If Only

If I had a job driving my own ice cream truck,
I’d paint the thing jet fucking black
with an airbrushed execution scene on the sides
and the little loudspeaker up top
would blast Motorhead’s “Ace of Spades”
as I drove through the neighborhood,
vending my delicious ice cream.

Actually, forget about the ice cream,
you know?

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Rich Boucher resides in Albuquerque, New Mexico. He has published four chapbooks of poetry and once hosted a poetry slam series in Newark, Delaware. Since moving to Albuquerque in 2008, Rich has performed all over the Duke City, served two terms as a member of the Albuquerque Poet Laureate Program’s Selection Committee, and is currently a member of the 2014 Albuquerque City Slam Team. His poems have appeared in The Nervous Breakdown, Apeiron Review, The Broadkill Review, Menacing Hedge and The Legendary, among others, and he has work forthcoming in the Write Bloody Publishing anthology MultiVerse, due out in the fall of 2014.

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The Comeback by Catherine Weiss

When he returned to Earth last spring
our Lord Jesus
did indeed make the rounds
of the talk-show circuit.

His talking points were
dealing with an omnipotent
father figure,
the hiatus,
and next moves.

@TheRealJC even attracted
more followers than
Justin Bieber.
Totes populaire.

Unfortunately, the Son of God’s
music career never
did take off.

Sorry Jesus, nobody
listens to ska anymore.

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Catherine Weiss is a poet and author living in Northampton, MA. She has been published in Drunk Monkeys, port.man.teau., Linguistic Erosion, Melancholy Hyperbole, and Red River Review. Her website is http://catherineweiss.com.

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Free Prisoner by April Salzano

Prison sounds like a vacation: time

to read, write, think. A sentence

for uninterrupted sleep and limitless

exercise. Three squares a day, far more

than I get on the outside.

Solitary confinement is a welcome

threat, a term that rings like

Nirvana. I can think of several crimes

I could use to pay the fare

for such an ideal getaway.

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Recently nominated for two Pushcart prizes, April Salzano teaches college writing in Pennsylvania where she lives with her husband and two sons. She is currently working on a memoir on raising a child with autism and several collections of poetry. Her work has appeared in journals such as Convergence, Ascent Aspirations, The Camel Saloon, Centrifugal Eye, Deadsnakes, Visceral Uterus, Salome, Poetry Quarterly, Writing Tomorrow and Rattle. The author also serves as co-editor at Kind of a Hurricane Press (www.kindofahurricanepress.com).

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Haikus are Easy by Dieter Rogiers

Haikus are easy

as long as you don’t misjudge

the number of syl

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Dieter Rogiers is a 35-year-old writer living in Brussels. This poem originally appeared on his 300 Stories website, which can be found here.

 

 

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Unspoken Consolation by Sean Lynch

This dog is a reincarnation of a reincarnation

of Allen Ginsberg because he’s mystical

and gives me queer looks.

He loves to smell piss and shit, and he’s beautiful

and black and white and if dogs were poets he’d be

the masterful, subversive beta-male.

Ginsberg stares at me thru big brown eyes while wagging

his tail, thinking about absolution.

Now he’s licking his penis and grunting.

Now a cat is sitting on my lap staring at the wall,

since he’s a reincarnation of a reincarnation

of William S. Burroughs, he’s crying on the inside

about murder, but not really feeling guilty. The animals have seen

it all before, but not for forever.

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Sean Lynch is a poet from New Jersey, born in 1992. His poems, essays, and short stories are available on swlynch.com. Lynch’s first poetry collection is the city of your mind (Whirlwind Press, 2013), which Lamont b. Steptoe, CAConrad, and Frank Sherlock call “beautiful and desolate,” “marvelous,” and “clear-eyed & visionary” respectively. Sean Lynch is also the editor of a collection of poems by Rocky Wilson.

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The House with No Door by Scáth Beorh

Down on Saint George Street

there’s a house with no door.

Outside there’s no chimney,

inside there’s no floor.

Upstairs there’s no attic,

no cellar below,

and if there are bedrooms

they choose not to show.

There once was a kitchen,

but it burned away

and left a huge hole where

raccoons like to play.

You can look for a parlor

‘til you damage your pride.

There is a small bathroom,

but it sits outside.

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Scáth Beorh is a writer and lexicographer of Ulster-Scot and Cherokee ancestry. His books in print include the novels Black Fox In Thin Places (Emby Press, 2013), October House (Emby, 2014), and Blood (Emby, 2015); the story collections Children & Other Wicked Things (James Ward Kirk Fiction, 2013) and Always After Thieves Watch (Wildside Press, 2010); the dictionary Pirate Lingo (Wildside, 2009); and the poetic study Dark Sayings of Old (Kirk Fiction, 2013). Raised in New Orleans and along the Gulf Coast of West Florida, and having undergone rites of passage in India and Ireland, he now makes a home with his joyful and imaginative wife Ember in a quaint Edwardian neighborhood on the Atlantic Coast.

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