Christopher Major
Sunk ?
Plastic mask
and air pipe
allow the
click-slurp
click-slurp
of regular breaths;
faces at the
glassy surface,
all anxious reflections.
Suddenly,
ripples caused
by metal paddles……….
peaks ‘n’ troughs
of a started heart.
Ben Barton
high street flasher
rubbing his cock against the door frame
his fingertips gripped, lip bitten
this man is wanking in the 3pm sunshine
en masse, the shopping crowd scatter and circle
lovers chewing gum,
schizophrenic
I watch his face turn into the corner
and he jerks on, so blissfully unaware of the world
and it of him.
Miles J. Bell
open the blinds on your own private apocalypse
i can if i want
write like
bomb laden
trucks screaming
round
hairpins
like cheesewire
across
a human fist like
a hurricane on
mars like bullets
drilled into a
cinema
but i don’t
want
cuz
building w/
nothing but
hammers
causes
only
head-
aches
and
leaves
the
poem
flat
lined
like
this
David LaBounty
Fate, Contrived or Designed
small press poets
the ebb and flow
and flow and flow
of the same old
faces and words
major bigbox
retail chain
bookstore
poetry section
pages ignored
and ignored full
of the same old
names and words
except
there is no
ebb or flow
only
the same old water
swirling
stagnating.
‘Fate, Contrived or Designed’
Absolutely amazing.