Three Patients, One Morning
By Genie AbramsC’mon c’mon c’mon. Let’s do this thing! “Two or three minutes,” my ass. It’s been five minutes already! Where are they? How long
are you supposed to hang out in this frickin’ waiting room?
Calling poets to a greater role in public life and fostering a national network of socially engaged poets.
By Genie AbramsC’mon c’mon c’mon. Let’s do this thing! “Two or three minutes,” my ass. It’s been five minutes already! Where are they? How long
are you supposed to hang out in this frickin’ waiting room?
By Maya PindyckMy friend tells me she just saw October Baby,
a movie about a woman who finds out she was
almost aborted—“abortion survivor,” she calls herself.
I ask my friend if she’s seen the newest flick,
By Devi K. LockwoodNo, not scrubs. Put on your tight purple dress and heels,
dig them into the new carpet. You have to look gorgeous,
that way they’ll trust you. And the patients start pouring in.
By Tara Shea BurkeWhen we met we fell for each other like leaves.
Behind black curtains your bedroom was always dark
except for unexpected soft-yellow walls. Your dogs
By David-Matthew BarnesI remember the rhythm at night:
Your hips wanting mine,
to grind our street-smart
By Don ShareJuly kindles the redneck in me.
I blaze down Interstates
that are viaducts for my beery nerves
By Patricia Davisabout his sister how she
wanted
to be light
built night in her ribs
By Nicholas SamarasWhat is that red throbbing over the sound of engines?
Why is a distant war still being talked about in the media?
I can't see my home or Iraq or the Middle East
outside this bowed rectangle of blue altitude.
By Pablo Miguel Martinezthe math of dance
the math of breath
counting 4 / 4