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  Mar 2021 ju
Evan Stephens
Night, night...
hammer handle.
Unzip this skin
& spill the salt.
Moon veers to ink
as it dreams
through the screen,
& darkness rides
the blotter.
Clouds cough,
sick over the spot
where you slept.
  Mar 2021 ju
Evan Stephens
Angry-headed poppy,
come deliver your sleep.
I want the black dream
that comes at 3 am,
& leaves only when
the numbers rake across
the face of glass.
O ****** poppy,
bring me the blankness
of your dry child -
my beloved slips
into scarlet wine,
she opens to wavering night,
without even my hand.
I down myself with coffee,
then wake with poems
erupting like lilacs
over a new grave.
Sweet-headed poppy,
come distribute your sleep.
I need the black dream
that comes so late
that it blinds me
to the ways I love her.
  Mar 2021 ju
Melody Mann
oh precious flower,
we marvel at how you uprooted yourself in pursuit of a healthier home,
not only did you sow your seeds in foreign soil,
you defied the seasons to tend to their every need till they flourished into the blossoms we regard today.
your discomfort is now their triumph.
their victory reigns as a testament to your sacrifice.
A daughter of Punjabi immigrants, my triumph is testament to my grandmother who came to this country and raised a family. This is a testament to my mother who navigated a system unknown to provide me the foundation I stand on today. This is a testament to a sister who stood in as a mother on nights our mother was working away. This is to the women who made me who I am today. Happy National Woman's Month, may we respect the women in our life who contribute to our society and upbringing.
  Mar 2021 ju
Thomas W Case
I miss her, and
it's uncomfortable.
I'm not used to
feelings.
In the past, I would
drink when I
felt uncomfortable,
or felt anything, for
that matter.
Now, I identify
the feelings, like
a strange new
species of animal:
"Oh yes, that's sadness.
It's indigenous to
the western plains of
the heart."
Feeling emotions is
strange and scary,
but it beats the
alternative;
feeling nothing,
and dying alone.
  Mar 2021 ju
Evan Stephens
I'm inclined
on green couch -
I work towards
my best face,
my wrist angle
marries the *****-light
to the pane-shadow.
You, so darkly pretty,
totally oblivious
to the agonies
of little cameras.
We talk too few minutes,
say goodbye too soon,
fumble with the chemistries
that still crackle between us,
despite your wall and wine.
Little cameras reveal me
the wrong way, but
they bring you to me
across the thousands.
I'm redeemed
when my heart
pushes for you,
sweet glass.
  Mar 2021 ju
Prevost
maybe he noticed me
when my eyes were reaching
out across the hills
trying to find the edges of the world
maybe he did look inside me
and saw what was once himself

I was most often quiet
a juxtaposition to the rage
I was always trying to sew back together
the hearts
and push the tears back into
their eyes
(his too)

I spent almost every waking moment
with a man
who both loved and hated me
knowing those ragged edges
was a gift
because the world is a broken place
and I am alive in it....
  Mar 2021 ju
Lori Jones McCaffery
None of it works for me
Not dance, not music, not even art.
Not words or rhymes or fairy tales
That talk of ever-after.
All of it is useless in this void.
              ljm
The Blue-moodies have attacked me again.
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