Categoría: little chews
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5 Haiku by Carl Bernard Schwartz
DON’T CALL ME A POEM No rhyme or reasonframes my physique or imageI just sit and drool ~~ REALLY? Takes 2 to tangocan do that by myself, ‘causeI have 2 left feet ~~ POINT OF VIEW I am a widowerif I’d had 3 wives, I wouldbe a widowest ~~ PERSONAL…
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Video 11 “a butterfly on my skin, Book 2” by Christina Chin and M. R. Defibaugh
“a butterfly on my skin, Book 2,” is free to download. Here’s the link to the chapbook, which includes an intro and wonderful review by a prominent President of the British Haiku Society and a Japanese shortforms editor, Jerome Berglund. https://ko-fi.com/s/2346b3af9c
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“Book and a Bagel” by Alice Baburek
The old woman shuffled into the cozy and popular place. The line was longer than usual, yet she had no qualms about waiting. She held her prized possession against her sagging chest. After several minutes, her legs began to ache. She tried desperately to rid her mind of the continuous…
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“white within our wide mouths opening,” Postcards by Yongbo Ma, Helen Pletts, and Nolcha Fox
photos by Helen Pletts, translation into Chinese by Yongbo Ma the white blossom gathers us on the branches and surges,other white signals blink and quiverwe dive in amongst them,our petal faces gill-pale, our gentle fragments unravelling (Helen) We whitewash the petals to match the last snowfall.Our lies now unravel and…
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5 Poems by Alan Hardy
LEAVE OUT A scattering of firm fresh leaveson branch and bough’s bedraggled scaffolding,in the first days of recognisable spring,does, in its sunny kiss, conveya rising from the ashes, though there’s still the pang of sadness,upon anniversaries,that they’ll never come round again,a feeling of dread that it will end,not the cycle…
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Poems by Wayne F. Burke
Cheap Thrills I could not swim justfloat, in my thick orangevest, in the lake–a cold mirror inmidst of woods andmountains.I dropped headfirstoff the wharf, tumbling andfalling, splashingand going underand coming back up (becauseof the vest) climbing anddropping again, again, allafternoon, hitting the waterand being sucked back upin a whoosh of…
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Video 10 “a butterfly on my skin, Book 2” by Christina Chin and M. R. Defibaugh
“a butterfly on my skin, Book 2,” is free to download. Here’s the link to the chapbook, which includes an intro and wonderful review by a prominent President of the British Haiku Society and a Japanese shortforms editor, Jerome Berglund. https://ko-fi.com/s/2346b3af9c
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Chapter 6 of “Bruised but unbroken” by Alissa Brown
Content Warning: Violence A prisoner again Now, I’m here in this dark and humid basement, tied to a pipe. I’m sure Gavin will come soon to finish me off and end this misery. I’m sick of it. I just want all the pain to stop. If I die, it will…
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“Sacred Lies” by Alice Baburek
A yellowed night light glowed against the peeling wallpaper. The scent of Old Spice lingered in the stale, smoked-filled air. Suddenly, the elderly man sat upright on the sagging mattress. Drops of sweat beaded on his naked chest and lined his graying brows. His paper-thin pajama bottoms stuck to his…
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“Of greatness and dreams” by Ken Tomaro
I would much rather exist on the great green expanse of a place called Sigiriya. Lion Rock. Away from civilization, which has become noticeably uncivilized lately. 400 feet up into the untouched air. Sun and trees for miles in every direction. The sound of screeching tires and screeching coworkers and…
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“I Mighta Ought’ve Been a Chick” by Michael Fowler
I’m a man in my mid-seventies who is still all man. I haven’t lost one follicle of my virile chest hair (the chromium head is another story), or a single ounce of my Sam Elliott basso profundo cowboy voice. I’ve never dated or even danced with another male, with the…
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“The Last Train to Forgiveness” by Alice Baburek
Allen Hassan sat on the hard, wooden bench. It had to be the holiday season. The underground train station was packed. He recognized the eager shoppers versus the daily commuters. Each group in its own world, yet heading in the same direction. He let out a huge sigh. His thoughts…
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5 Poems by Lynn White
Looking Through The Windows The windows are aglow.A cacophony of colourgiving glimpsesof other people’s lives.Snapshots into different worlds.Shapes stilland moving.A little exposuresometimesa mystery revealed.Stories to be toldfrom different imaginings.A cacophony of colourTati-esqueas if Monsieur Hulothas taken his vacationwith Mon Onclein the twenty-first century,until the lights goout. First published in Visual…
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