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Upon a sweet zephyr
     whirled a scent,
something so familiar
   midst that breeze,
'twas like warm apple pie
   sitting amid a windowsill
wafting delectable
   reminiscence of long ago,
children's laughter
   full of caramel & pepper,
petunias, summer rain
      and hot cayenne spice
all delightfully blissed
    in a blast of fragrant air's
momentously fresh nostalgia
 Jul 2015 Aniseed
Joshua Haines
The sloppy rain slips and slides down the fogged-up windows,
and this lets me know that I am not as small as I think I am.
In a city of three million plus, I feel like the soul of a nation,
even though I'm just a twenty-one year-old piece of plastic, drinking a hipster beer.

The waitress has frizzy hair and oily skin.
She's holding in late-night infomercials and missed ballet recitals, behind her words.
She looks at my luggage and asks where I came from or where I'm going,
and I tell her that the fun thing is that I have no idea where I'm going --
and that I still haven't decided where I've came from.

This city allows new-found anonymity, and I want that to be my cause.
With each passing glance, I know they don't see me, and, to me, that's the slumber-kissed throat-slit I've always dreamt of...

...the streets play music that I only hear -- and I know that's not fair, but I don't care.

And the homeless represent the bowels of the city.
And the businessmen are the ghost-filled engine.
And the middle class is the defense-mechanism I always wanted for Christmas.
And I am the empty delusion, desperately seeking a new pollution.
 Jul 2015 Aniseed
Lauren Leal
Everyone seems to be talking about this thing they lost.
It made their world
It made them change
It made them live
It made them shine....

I think it was love.

I wonder what that feels like....
 Jun 2015 Aniseed
Liam C Calhoun
I was the, “Monster,”
With all but one
Concern
Upon my tongue –
Her and imagination wrought
Honey.

I was the, “Monster,”

Who’d only one
Plight
Come 5:00 A.M. –
Flight and ensuing chasm christened,
“Regret.”

I was the, “Monster,”

Where all but one
Finger’d
Grasp my throat –
Phantasms of someone she’d met once
Before.

I was the, “Monster,”

When it wouldn’t work
Again
And again and again –
Sacred and scared, I’d never answer,
Faint and, “knock.”

I am the, “Monster.”
There's this poet who makes me smile
We are still sort of like strangers
I don't know his smile
Or the sound of his laugh
But I do know a simple hello in my inbox can brighten my day
It may not mean much to you
But I can't remember the last time I smiled
And my eyes smiled as well
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