Because The Answer Is Usually In The Poetry.


By Jillian Moreno

gladioli, camellia, freesia
a fragrant spell indeed,
hazy and windows open

now I have a lil lady orchid
dainty and patient above the kitchen sink

I used to think that not until I myself was beautiful
could I surround myself with beautiful things
now i think it’s the opposite,
and I should wind calla lilies around my core of nothing&empty
like whispers around a windpipe
or pipe cleaners around a toilet paper roll

anthurium, anemone
if you use beautiful words, you don’t have to write a poem at all
but then what have you done?

(                )

the core of this poem is a toilet paper roll                                        

and I am inside of it, shrinking                                                    

and the core of the core is a silence that doesn’t exist

                        no matter how my belly aches for it                   



                                                                                              be silent!


If I could be a poem.

By Susannah Emerson

If I could be a poem
it wouldn’t mention you or
        The 1,639 Days On A String.
        I say I love you & you call foul play.

Girl could bash a brain
a good, good sane name:
You call me wrong I take a bat to your kneecap.

But I am soft and bendy.
The neurons go better, faster, wrong.
        Your grammar is terrible.
        You deserved not more than a week’s worth,
And I give.