James Crews: Two Poems
We keep going back to the rocky beach,
searching for the glint of sea glass
Mike Vargo and Eric Marchbein: Who Abandoned the Working Class?
This commentary on the election takes the form of a Q&A between two observers with firsthand knowledge of certain aspects. Freelance writer Mike Vargo grew up in a blue-collar family, … Continue reading
Rosemerry Wahtola Trommer: Wilding
I crave it, this scraping away
of everything that isn’t
limb-thrash and lung-gasp
and skin-scream and heart-bang
Baron Wormser: The Wand
Like many born in the years after World War Two, I spent a portion of my childhood watching Disney cartoons on television and in the movie theater. One thrilling aspect … Continue reading
Susan Kelly-DeWitt: The Parting
It was November outside–
the leaf-colored sofa inside
strangely vivid in the flickering
light
Betsy Sholl: Liminal
In Dante, some stanzas so blaze with light,
reading them, you feel your pupils constrict.
It’s like walking along the shore, ocean
flashing on your left, sun straight ahead
flooding your eyes
Matthew Parker: Foot Soldier
As a junkie and petty thief, I often found myself caught like a foot soldier behind enemy lines in the war on drugs. And, like most street-level addicts, it was inevitable that I’d become a prisoner of war.
Fleur Adcock: Weathering
I was never a pre-Raphaelite beauty,
nor anything but pretty enough to satisfy
men who need to be seen with passable women.
Julia Conley: Watchdog Launches ‘War Room’ to Monitor Trump’s Corruption
“Americans will know how the Trump administration and its allies are working for themselves, big corporations, and the wealthy, not the American people,” said Accountable.US.
Byron Hoot: Two Poems About Fall
It is fall and ghosts walk
in the wind among fallen
leaves, mist, and fog more
easily than any other time
of the year
Brett Wilkins: Trump Cabinet Picks So Far Decried as ‘Nightmare Fuel’
The good news is, we can win these types of fights. We helped drive out three Cabinet secretaries from office last time, and we can do that kind of thing again.
Sandy Solomon: Grief
I move back and forth
down the supermarket aisles,
the way I move back and forth
through grief’s famous stages.
Laure-Anne Bosselaar: “Breakfast Morning” by Jacques Prévert
He made smoke
Circles in the air
He put the ashes
Into the ashtray
Without speaking to me
Without looking at me
