Nils Geylen - Interlude

pirates are soft on the inside hyperacute

really daily repeats of drownings at eight

aerial shots of marine features breaking

waves sonar imagery floaties on bellies

these figures are looking up the market

the economy budget rock solid scoring

on a first date drive safe practice your

fetishes safe chlamydia free to the bone

for now and a wedding coming up for the

elderly folks their toes dipped in the river

bed worth a viral video in a maker society

streaming plans booming with therapists

and patients alike I was 19 desperate my

body a temple a skinny chicken plucked

naked ready on a green matcha and ramen

diet vigorous and masculine like a wrestler

Jonathan Butcher - Two Pieces

Jonathan Butcher is a poet based in Sheffield, England. He has had work appear in various print and online publications including: Popshot, Ex-Ex Literature, Silver Pinion The Transnational, Sick-Lit, Drunk Monkeys, The Morning Star, and others. He edits the online poetry journal 'Fixator Press', through which his third chapbook, 'Corroded Gardens' was published.   

***

Headstones

//A strip of shadows over headstones, the rest of others decimated at angles, letters and moss now smudged, that slow sink into chips of wood, a slope of hand placed wild flowers/The tree with that one grave under its shade, a final root of concrete and memories, a disturbance unwanted; like heat penetrated sleep/Those battered trinkets, old toys now distant with fur like mattered swamp vines, encased in a spread gesture of loss, adopted by any space here willing/That metal cage of  plastic bags and half chewed stems, a single white stone, half sunk, illuminated without cause/A batch of daisies spread only over where we are unjustified to tread, almost smirking with their snug authority/The horizon pasture broken by concrete and cogs, yet  incognizant in regards to their disturbance/ That discarded plastic Orchid that reflects this light, and remains cracked in that decades old stone/Each slab now misplaced; each one separated from a singular structure//

***

Traveling Backwards

The former passageways slowly merging into the

contrived miniature puddles/to those grey towers,

the hidden threads of barbwire conveniently rejected,

 between roses to open when required/ 

less desirable paintwork as alive as this trespass

the entrance by the smog and bile/translucent 

and only out of footprints broken, offering the clouds

remain at this time never make contact/

duties in demand repudiating of memorial, 

a blessing reprehensible blind eyes at their own 

cloud of dust/the day missed slowly past, those 

clouds only offer false security/clothes you wear a

statement, refusing contact/this night surrounds

conversation cut, the significance of those rows,

dwelling now numbed/and you question the relevance 

around this glass, by that taste, less bitter, now finally 

at last allowed/a constant cycle but which burns, 

offering us both a sliver of freedom.

Jim Leftwich - Three poems

1
The eYe, an iMpOster

        NarRatiVe Boosts
Heed ah, that nOt Is Why / Nor
    wasHes / macEration
MiliTim hiss VoMis, coNtaining
frOm tech-bReath, a pOlitics
         of MomeNtary cRiteRia

09.07.2019



***
2
TomoRrOw, again, GenerAtes aLienation

MaKing iNteNtions "a Great Else" tHe
   caraMbola tRee The
EnduRing aRcHeTypes Seize the
BricKLaYers: hUman LiGHt eXpeCtaNcy,
    past-feMur rapid sOciety
  & feLine eCOnoMics

09.07.2019




***
3
seVered deCibeLs

juMping Lures
 Fuming maKiNg
  Listen aNother
   seLf-VisUaliZed
  foRms oF thOUHgt
 aRRanged aGainst
the prOGressive
 iNdex are an
  entire lecture
   temporary in
 a state eye pore

09.07.2019

Enola Markie - Plus / Plus Plus

grr three r. . . mal x plus
lam ni j arr x plus
ns g ki grc longs h tri.. n mal plus
y.. nu ni del ih lam iot c. lam pi ki r. arr zs plus
iot ru ki bar tri.. u mal v plus
gam tri plus plus

ki bar uh lam grr iot c. lam pz ni three arr i plus
iot ru ni bar a a tri.. q mal k plus
eh lam ih y.. c. lam pi ni plus
iot nu ki grc m q tri.. ds mal v plus

ah three arr u plus
mu e e pi ni uh grr . . plus
uu gam o. plus plus

tri tri tri tri tri oh n. gam o. plus plus
uh lam bas . gam c. p. plus plus

grr r. s s. ki n . . grc ns plus
ns nu ki bar p p plus
n. plus
ns nu ni bar ds p p. s. plus
iot ru ki grc l m s. ki plus plus

oh s. zzz eh arr uu mu plus
iot ni bar e plus
gam o. plus plus

mu zzz ki ru l gam o. plus plus

ah zzz r. iot eh eh eh plus
iot gam gam nu o. bas gam gam ki ki plus

iot ru ni barb ni plus
y.. nu ki ba u plus
iot g ni ds plus
mu ki a a tri.. ds ki ki plus
ni bar n a ni ki ki longs ki plus
mu ni u gam plus plus

oh ki bar o. plus
bar o. . gam plus plus

Pietro Andolini - _//

A
B ____ _____ __________ ____ _____ ____

1 _______ //_______ //__ //__ //__ //__

2 ____//________//_______//__ //__//__ //__ //________

3

4 _____// ____//__//__ //__//

5 ___//~~//_______//


6

7 ____//_____//__//_____// __ //__ //_______ //

8 ____________________________//__________//__ //________//__________//________// ____________________________//__________//__ //________//__________//________//

9 / / / / / /

Voss Felvarg - Bent out of shape

Hundreds of trees
Oversized leaves
Leaves
Trees

O. G. B. B. T. A B. G. B. B. G.

Trees,
Tree tags

O. G. B. B. T. A B. G. B. G. B. G.

Trees.
Tree cutters

The next few years
Girls will be girls
Lobsters are are clammy
Birch trees
Birch trees - T.
Axe trees
Eternal
Eternal Tide

E

Ouija Board (swear word)

If I knew that you never do an intervention
I would not be afraid
If I knew that you never do an intervention
I would not be afraid
if I know that you never do an intervention
I would not be afraid
If I know that you never do an intervention
I would not be afraid
If I know that you never do an intervention
I would not be afraid
If I know that you never do an intervention
I would not be afraid
If I know that you never do an intervention
I would not be afraid

Breathing
- ‏ ‏ ‏ ‏ ‏ ‏
Breathing
- ‏ ‏ ‏ ‏ ‏ ‏ ‏
Breathing
- ‏ ‏ ‏ ‏ ‏ ‏ ‏
Breathing
- ‏ ‏ ‏ ‏ ‏ ‏ ‏
Breathing
- ‏ ‏ ‏ ‏ ‏ ‏ ‏
Breathing
- ‏ ‏ ‏ ‏ ‏ ‏ ‏
Breathing
- ‏ ‏ ‏ ‏ ‏ ‏ ‏
Breathing
-
- O‏ „ I -O. G. B. BO. C.
-
Breathing
-
- ‘T‏ „ I- O. O. U.- ‘Y‏- ‘O. G. B. B

‘T. O.- T. O. G.T. B. O. O. G. O. G. B. B

Mark Young - from 1750 words

#6

It seems so simple

this sense of

shaking off desire.

So many years

with a

nimbus at salient.

Now to begin

dismantling

the self, using

the negative. Not so

easy changing

the status quo.

***

#7

An awesome app! & at

such a low price! Can be 

operated from the comfort 

of your own cardboard

container. It reminds me 

of some form of soft em-

balmer. Inevitably fatal, but

you take some time to die.

***

#8

A set of approaches & tools.

The most notable case is that 

of a chair beside an open win-

dow, protected from the wind.

"Somebody may read my poems

after I'm dead & wish I'd died

much earlier." Niccolò di Bernardo 

dei Machiavelli—(1469–1527).

Little is known. 

All decisions are mechanical.

***

#9

Candidates also

tend to equate

the project with

heavy obstacles.

The main metric

of both is booze.

(Joseph McCarthy)

Other parts frequently 

: have become more :

characterized by muscles :

: factor details in status :

the capacity to construct.

Cars are not permitted.

There is another.

***

#10 (exposing the Republican divide)

card clok master time

human iris pattern recognition

a many-colored Persian Carpet 

handpunch time employse cloking

over 36,000 Happy Clients in 2017

cinstruction time chronos time cock

local industry seldom considers any standards.

Hugh Tribbey - Three Poems

1

ONE KNOWLEDGE 

One knowledge bemused like

His ringlet, by election.

Reversing the flank

On the weathered housetop rosette.

Played politics in the smashed shandy.

The triangle would drink a foxglove,

Loving defeat inside somewhere,

Where airship speaks

In a web through its beauticians

From chain to chain,

But its fanatic payments

Made no seraph.

***
2

HES

Hes

Of st

Of Ed

Quire

Propo

Sch

Res

The

T our

Mish

Be en

Oul

Fisc

Ns

Clas

Oma

Th

Sa

Di

***
3

A BOOM, A BAYONET 

A boom, a bayonet, oh Papa!

As passenger anonymous

Eureka, Ben, Cambodia wagons

Panthers been tabled

Waco bitter , nabob groan

Oh Hitachi, oh robot

Two webpages romantic

A monolithic panda

Rhythm pampa, a pock mark 

Hyphenated pink

A cracked Kaiser bun

A pop up axe

Cake to subvert moss

A myth which lumps hornet caps

Bank a ketchup row

To check subcork 

Keep bath towels

Keep botched robbers

Ho Hey, amulet Babcock 

Hi, Eva, maintain 

A mess, renew syrup

Subsume banquet mop after axe

Commit to camp

Alex Salinas - Ju speak Spanish?

UNO. 

Ju speak Spanish, jes?

I looked down at my arms, 

white. 

No, I answered.  

Ju should learn Spanish, mijo,

            it’s important.

I don’t recall selling another tool that day.

Instead, I wandered the department store, the alleys of 

            memory.

Not even my own father told me to learn

            Spanish.

The customer was wrong. 

Who was he to judge if my

            tongue

was properly educated?

DOS.

Recently, I thought about his words, 

about blueprints. 

Straight white lines 

connecting, 

crosshatching 

on dark blue paper.  

TRES.

When you think about it, what blueprints are fully attuned to the rigors of

            reality?

When it comes down to it, what fathers fully understand all they must teach their

            children?

Alyssa Trivett - Three Poems

1

Gas Station Blues

I drove by the abandoned station

with X’s for eyes on the gas pumps

and fast food chicken nugget flavored water scents

parading up and down the scarred asphalt.

Car tires whir

and patrons accidentally skip their shoulda been

toll change out the window

and let summer seep into their rusted boxcars

as people launch fireworks and bullets

at ungodly hours.

***

2

Drive Up

Coffee shop loitering regulars 

trot by the pond behind the drive-up,

the alley reeking like a 

high school cigarette bathroom 

tarnished with dry paper towel ink

and cardboard thoughts

with scribbled streak scrawl

of study hall poetry.

***

3

Heart/Head/Everything/No Bread.

My heart dilates my eyes

proceeding to pencil sharpen 

my tap-dancing fingers

as his leather coat paper airplane glides

and whirs the revolving door 

like the kickback of a chicken’s head

flying off for target practice,

or a can in No Man’s Land

shot to hell like a wandering baseball

just eyein’ your jackhole of a neighbor’s

front window

and the rubber-band drops into my system

giving me some sort of 

rollercoaster shock from electric bar syndrome

not yet invented

and tells me to give a chance

and love him.

Heath Brougher - Two Poems

***

1

Scum 

 

Ask scrooge,,

scrack (ash);;—

 

Tampa houses,

temporal hoses;

hrrrrip! (octo;;),,

 

folio scag..,

Cesar (fl0);;>

 

stric (t) sock;;—

stone vipers,,

ska ksa (id),,

ir 8 (I ate)d;

ribcage rubteeth,,

 

wren (WREN) wren;; to Punch

a passenger pigeon;

picka FINCH—

 

sun (a;;’)—

scream vesper;;

 

      ;ßDILLATANTE

 

ROUGHIANà;

 

cream bats

(otco) o’clock,,

 

pull pills;

spitless scrounge sock vitamin S;

(17,000 mi)les downthroat

contagious venomà

Question Screen,,

vile vitals;;

 

stich sick sticks — throat WARD;;

SKIN—;;

stung by poisontooth;

don’t say a darkword;

scrambled scotch;;

of asp after asp after ASP!!

 

 

***

2

Pontif-I-cate 

 

[LACK]

notetaking noteworthy

 

territory terrestrial

 

GUMMA

 

bloated tertiary syphilis

GODzillas everywhorl!

 

clock misticks;

--------ance flicks;;—

 

Reptilian wreckage—

,, magnanimous moth.

 

night save day

tonal

timbre

ochre  ;;

 

rubber ORE ;;—

 

OIL BATH……..

ROTISSERIE

car

cuss……….

(egg cet ERA)

(spoiled rotgut windchime children).