Category: Poetry

  • Boathouse


    By Jan Wiezorek I see now that mystery chops at water. I see now those fractal oars in the sky. I cannot see fear on my face, but I feel flint move like slow motion. I could skip along this path of stones and trip right into a rite of terror—slipping off the pier into…

  • Then and Now

    Then and Now

    by Wendy J. Dunn   JOAN OF ARC (Written at sixteen).   Today I die Today I die I remember when I first heard them in the green meadows of my home,   St Catherine beckoned me, Saint Michael and Saint Margaret told me, ‘Drive the English out, drive them out from France.’ They said…

  • Fly or Swim

    Fly or Swim

    By Jane Frank.   A three-quarter moon is already hanging over the old aerodrome and horse paddocks   but my head is crammed with the sea— it’s sheen—mosaic edge against the island,   though I suppose these lilac-green grasses are their own ocean and clouds of pink-   chested birds are gathering in the concave…

  • Every Single Day

    By Les Wicks.   It takes a certain bravery or blindness perhaps.   I gave so much away but still the clutter.   When I said there was this fear        my lover listened.   Growth grows on one. On an empty day with storm & vehemence I had plenty.   But wanted so much more…

  • Complication


    By Jane Frank. is understanding blood components on a graph – the way they undulate, rise, fall – and their relationship to the depth of your smile, the pallor of your skin   the way families turn inside out the same way hands did in that childhood game where the fingers are the church and…

  • Garry Gets a Gun

  • We are all wildflowers pressed between transparencies

    We are all wildflowers pressed between transparencies

    By Jane Frank.  

  • Day Ebbs

    Day Ebbs

    by Wendy J. Dunn  



    by Wendy J. Dunn   The cold wind blows waves crash their might against rocks   I am one with this place.   The sea roars darkness falls as storm clouds shield the sun.   I am one with this place.   A seagull caws over my head   My clothes slap against skin  …

  • Balms

    by Les Wicks.  



    by Wendy J. Dunn   Sex Birth Leigh Sales is “totally fine”. Sex Birth Come close to death Yoghurt hits the stage   He said she was a bit over the top about this business of giving birth She’s no reason to complain   So why not mansplain the point home By missing her with…

  • Orbs & the Mountain

    By Les Wicks

  • Always, a River

    Always, a River

    By Jan Wiezorek. The eastern branch of the trail ends near the mouth of the creek, running a bow yoke to the river, and the best walks bring me here, facing south, as the sandhill crane flies above Walton bridge— fishing with father, a walk here with mother—dramatic in light, signets, beech, longing—space to touch…

  • Well Rounded

    Well Rounded

    By Jan Wiezorek The Grand Tetons, Thomas Hart Benton, 1955-60, Grand Rapids Art Museum   Brother, who knows birds by sight and sound, has such a well-rounded mind that far aspens model themselves as near-spheres, bushes twist into circles, foothills become mounds, and Tetons shape themselves as curvilinear—when he took a covered wagon out west,…

  • River


    by Tina Tsironis Your pain is a river so clear and so deep my pain is a river so cool and so sleek do you think you could do it?tell me now yank out the sludge smooth me out pry out the bugs my wellness I’d flout wrench out the shit bleeds brighter than gout…