Today’s choice
Previous poems
Diane Webster
Revenge
Squirrels dream of a cougar,
a cougar given permission
to crouch like an assassin
awaiting its prey, its target;
a cougar concealed
in the squirrel tree.
Squirrels scowl, chitter
at the woman who once fed
them corn and bread
until she met him,
him who paces beside her,
his arm around her shoulder,
her arm around his waist.
A couple made to sicken squirrels
until midnight revenge twitches
dreams as the cougar leaps…
Today the woman walks alone
noticing squirrels spiralling the tree
as if rejoicing in the sun’s rising,
wondering if she has an ear of corn.
Diane Webster‘s work has appeared in North Dakota Quarterly, New English Review, Studio One and other literary magazines. She had micro-chaps published by Origami Poetry Press in 2022, 2023, 2024 and 2025. Diane was a featured writer in Macrame Literary Journal and WestWard Quarterly. Her website is: www.dianewebster.com
Mary McQueen
It’s starts in utero, painted wood carvings thick as a
finger, gift
wrapped in nostalgia.
Alan Hardy
Made a list.
A record.
The dishes she ate.
Monuments visited.
In Paris.
Susana Arrieta
Tempting death with every cobblestoned step
his face was a collection of broken records
Peter Leight
There’s more waste than we use for the things we ordinarily use waste for, such as piling it on barges and sending them out to sea, tucking it under the surface like a layer of insulation . . .
John Grey
there are some lives
lived poolside
and others that
mostly consist of
a bent back in a field –
Adam Flint
All summer automatic exits remain
open, and no one leaves or boards.
David Van-Cauter
You are pleased to see me
in my gothic T-shirt –
those bats, you say, have been your friends.
Mark Wyatt
yes of course/ it was idyllic, reclining (pint of/ cider in hand) poolside in the harvesting/ sunlight
Catherine Shonack
when confronted with vast, endlessness of the ocean
who wouldn’t go mad?