by admin | Mar 29, 2020 | Poetry55, Volume 55
Issue 55 Cold You Pull Over Here? Henna Ahmed On my way to heaven, I want to make a pit stop first. I want to go home. I want to stand on the front steps. I want to close my eyes and feel the warm air of an October noon. I want to walk in to see my mother on the phone...
by admin | Mar 28, 2020 | Poetry55, Volume 55
Issue 55 On Wheels Nicolas Stevens The pufferfish that once swung like chaos from the rearview mirror now gathers dust in the glove compartment, waiting for the next victim to unknowingly reach their hand in. Prickly enough to draw blood. An obsidian letter...
by admin | Mar 26, 2020 | Poetry55, Volume 55
Issue 55 blink Christine MacKenzie is it normal for her to lean her head on the train window see wild brown grasses rapid blown in a field rapid shifts to woods streets towns is it normal to have moments when time roars like white rapids that sweep bodies down to the...
by admin | Mar 24, 2020 | Poetry55, Volume 55
Issue 55 Clock In Lewis Smith I always wanted to live in a monastery. I could ring the bells: signaling prayer, meals, and reflection. Trading Jowett’s Jig for single tones, how meditative. I would pay my rent in pearls of wisdom. Concerns...
by admin | Mar 23, 2020 | Poetry55, Volume 55
Issue 55 borderline borderless bordering Damian Wang An eye for an eye is the coward’s way out. I learned the hard way that head trauma is hardly fair, which some kids are forced to endure for the lack of white they contain. The more melanin you retain, the...
by admin | Mar 22, 2020 | Poetry55, Volume 55
Issue 55 4:52 am in a Taiwanese mother’s sanctum Damian Wang Bitter melon soup Bitter melanin too When my mother cups me like Achilles’ healing is unfound in her crockpots and cast iron pans. Grated skin makes the most flavorful stock, bitter me lies down on the...
