John Grey

      Just in Case You’d Forgotten there are some lives lived poolside and others that mostly consist of a bent back in a field – some are chauffeured some are piled into the backs of trucks driven fifty miles from border to farm on rough roads –...

Diane Webster

      lightning flashes everyone stands still * doves balance on telephone wires girls play jump rope * wall of windows carved out of red brick see no evil     Diane Webster’s haiku/senryu have appeared in failed haiku, Kokako, Enchanted...

Adam Flint

      To the Litten Tree Morning sees droplets of spittle flicked over foraging insects. Down hind legs, hidden among the leaves, the sated dump fresh honeydew and trees weep sugar. Sweet hurt. Little graces matter. The bus drivers know us, let us smoke...

David Van-Cauter

      Bats You are pleased to see me in my gothic T-shirt – those bats, you say, have been your friends. Throughout the months you think you’ve been here, they have perched above your bed, protectors, telling you by sonar, not to fear. Without them, you...

Mark Wyatt

  Mark Wyatt now lives in the UK after teaching overseas. His work has recently appeared in Exterminating Angel, Greyhound Journal, Ink Sweat and Tears, Osmosis, Sontag Mag, Streetcake Magazine, and Talking About Strawberries All Of The Time. More here:...

Catherine Shonack

    white flag, black flag he lived with his hand permanently on the throttle, like it would kill him if he let it go. existence passed in flashes, his alcohol soaked dreams indistinguishable from reality—he was a victim of his divorced mind chalking up his...