Sam Roxas-Chua


Several times I asked my father
to pull on my ears
until my feet were lifted off the ground.

Several times I asked him
to look into my eyes
and blow out the red lanterns—

those soft pendulums
that keep me up at night,
twin stars of vermillion arias.

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Margaret Roncone

I Fall in Love with a Photo of e.e. cummings in a New Yorker Magazine While in the Waiting Room of an Opthamologist’s Office

it's black and white

he's looking intently

away from the camera at

a parade of lower case 'i’s

a hyphened world

linear time and rhyme

disappear in a desert

of white stallions

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Dorothy Lemount


When all becomes quiet and still

 I always find myself looking for the person I used to be. 

When all endings become beginnings and

The hours seem to have dissolved into 


I always find myself wondering

Where have I been? 

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Lew Jones

I Saw the Crows of Summer Charge the Powder Blue Sky

I saw the crows of Summer charge the powder blue sky

Roadwork on the freeway could not stop their mission

Technology w/ all its posture could not halt their flight

Like midnight ink splattered on sunny white sheets

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Hamish Todd

I walked up the pavement and there, much to my delight, was a tienda, a store selling beer and wine and hard liquor, jammed full of people.  I bought a big 40 oz. can of Tecate’.  There was a quaint little park almost directly across the street from the store.  I sat down at a bench, intending to pull out my weed and pipe and have a little toke to go along with my beer.

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David Fewster

In Salem, the winter fog settles at sundown
like gauze, blinding and oppressive,
a cold, wet blanket of
Fuck You For Being Here.
On such an evening, I imagine
John Fahey in some shithole welfare hotel,
perhaps the Holiday Lodge on Hawthorne.

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