By Sean Patrick Mulroy He wasn’t in the car— not even in the trunk— and when I looked inside the kitchen cabinets there wasn’t anything but rat poison and cereal. I searched the closet twice, turned out the pockets of your pants, and ran my hands between your winter coats. I could have sworn I saw him cowering beneath your desk— but no. I thought he might be outside watching through the window, so I pulled the curtains down and then I pulled the carpet up

By Malcolm Drysdale Humans equipped lacking existence wait patiently for the miracle promised for themselves to happen Brothers sisters fathers mothers Uncertain in this age of reason The TV flickers in the ante natal ward as if in warning of life to come Yielding to misgivings the future too appears in spasm as nature strives for birth each morning Cutting across this valley side I caught my thoughts from falling Only the sea ahead after all the shoreline adept at change The

By Marina Bell I want us to crawl out of the fire and rubble and ashes of this Through the portal of past and could be-s. into each others’ beds. slime and silt and rotting leaves   into the gloaming.   cracked teeth jagged bone, gushing red ground black Glorious gore thrashing my bloody heart into a void that has no song too hollow for ghosts too empty for an echo.   The ecstasy of this violence rearranging my organs. Riving muscles into new shapes.   I want to sway to the w