There are no barbed wires here:/there are keypad numbers/green lights and weathered LEDs
john paul davis
Night is the world turning its face away from light;/Winter is earth throwing back its head.
there are pieces to/be afraid of everywhere.
Grass in the wind/Measuring my distances.
death of beauty
repetition in song./The melodrama of daily living
suzi q. smith
he was almost invisible/as if each day/the eraser took a bit more of his color
the other woman
he fucked me like the other woman/kissed me like a clean slate/abounding freedom
silence. except for a soft crackling sound/from the end of my cigarette
why i'm still here
on sunday/i woke up/& slid from under/your arms
all i want/is for you to grab hold/of my sin/from the inside
bruce e. miner
What else is there to do/he thought heavy and lost/himself as girls passed with a scent
graveyard shift or the devil at large
Sing, sing says the pack/All box cutters and eerie looks/In passing
Days later, I will come back/And find the room empty,/I will close the door behind me