Gloom Cupboard

As the winter vacation shrinks and dies, people will go back to school and still write poetry. For some reason. The Editors, Luis Rivas Henry Ajumeze — Forgiveness By Ronald Kichurchak Jr. Shelly cowered in the corner while the tears rolled down her face. There was a shiner beneath her eye and a bruise on [...]

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I was standing in front of Bar 107 on 4th Street in Downtown Los Angeles, smoking. A man approaches me, admits he’s homeless and asks if I would like him to write me a poem for a modest contribution. The idea struck me as sad and beautiful (although, admittedly, if you are going to offer [...]

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The leaves are turning, the winds of fall blow colder and yet the protests in America are staying put despite eviction notices, arrests, one death and disagreeable weather. Poets who do not write poetry sometimes make better poets than the ones that write as if it were a career. The collection in this issue shows [...]

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So here we are. For some reason I’m in Chicago. For some reason thousands of people are occupying both public and private spaces in my country that’s not my country – that has been steadily and speedily destroying the Earth – flirting with the potential of an all-out uprising. Poetry, much like Bertolt Brecht’s take on [...]

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In this issue we have poems. And how. But seriously folks. Here in the United States of America there is a lot of news coverage on the Sept. 11, 2001 attacks, which is necessary journalism, for sure. But, unfortunately, it has overshadowed another Sept. 11 event, which most of you might not have been aware [...]

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If you squint hard enough, everything is beautiful–except you. A squinting face is fucking ugly. Poems. Here. You are welcomed. Luis Rivas Henry Ajumeze Amber Bromer Poetry Editors, Gloom Cupboard   the girls By John Grochalski the girls sit on the bus making each other laugh they are doing strange voices entertaining each other caught [...]

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In this issue a couple of poetic doctors publically and fictionally breach the doctor-patient confidentiality, college professors profess a professional admiration for sadism. Although these poems smell like Marlboro Menthol Lights, I assure you they are Reds. Your respiratory system has no chance. Yours truly, Luis Rivas Amber Bromer Henry Ajumeze Almighty Editors of Poems [...]

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There’s this rumor going around that the world didn’t end May 21, 2011, as some had predicted. Well, after looking around locally and reading the international news, I think the Jesus freaks had it right – sorta. The world did end. But it’s been a process. Not a day, but rather the stretch of our recent [...]

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Once upon a time immigrants had some radical ideas on labor, rights, democracy and society overall.  In May of 1886 in the cold streets of Chicago, they organized for the eight-hour workday and eventually were hanged.  Italians, Germans, Americans.  Anarchists, Socialists, Activists: Immigrants, all of them.  This issue has nothing to do with that whatsoever.  Happy May and [...]

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We’re going to start this off with an apologize on my behalf for being late. March’s issue has transformed into April’s issue.  It was magic. So, without further ado, we present you with bittersweet Johnnies, unknown killers, future literary divebar loners, readers of Kafka and Grouche Marx (that other Marxist) and quiet-minded genuises that speak without moving their [...]

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