Scoundrel Time

Two Poems by Hussein Ahmed

Suppose it Rained in Harmattan Suppose everything beneath this sky wasn’t dying of loneliness – or hunger. Suppose we sought a new God that cannot stand the sight of blood. Suppose there’s a new God in town, and nothing edible goes on...

Listicle

the man with the hidden camera at the nude beach the man online who said i must not post the photo of the license plate of the car of the man with the hidden camera at the nude beach The Most Lemony of Lemon Muffins the women shocked by the man...

Voyeurs

In Brooklyn, the sky is too small to fly kites, so we flew paper planes instead, hoping our futures went as far as they did before falling. We’d watch the wind catch and carry them along, but we’d look away before they fell, turning our heads from...

Two Poems by Andrew Shields

Accident The witness alleged that the tram was run down by an excited horse whose rider found he’d lost control too late to prevent the collision.   _____   Crossing When you cross the river, look up if you can. There’s always...

Gig Economy

I am a person you can pay to outsource the in-person trolling of your long-distance nemeses. On Monday, I got paid enough to buy a sandwich for side-eyeing someone at a coffee shop.  Yesterday, it was knocking someone’s ice cream onto the sidewalk...

A Trio of Erasures by Erin Murphy

HR Erasure: Policy on Clarity   Use                                          euphemisms. Be                    ambiguous. Choose                        your                 own     definitions for                   words, your...

Circuitous

A great & maybe pensive blue heron in this black-glass office park stalks chill captive water solar -electric fountained to prevent stagnation & green blooms of lawn -rich algal slime the ponds rimmed meanderingly by asphalt walks &...

What’s Brittle

That place where it breaks—the faint hairline crack that snakes its spider web lines out in all directions, jigsawing sharp pieces out of what was once just a single thing: a window I have looked through forgetting the glass. The oak seen for weeks...

Sunshine and Sea Air

The water is yellow today, so Becca chooses the marigold placemats and beige dishes to coordinate, finishing with linen napkins and silver flatware (her pattern is Grand Baroque). She adjusts the place settings on the patio table overlooking the...

Damaged Goods

I Like eggs with brief craters, starburst damage masked, often, with plastic packaging, faults caused by mishandling, manipulated nature graded; any given woman. Oh, to be rogue, to know, to feel deep in the marrow’s soil that cracks do not equal...

Corona Corona

1. Traffic cones pop-up like moving goalposts, out of nowhere, sidewalk, stoop, parking ramp and it wasn’t the utility van or work crews who fenced in projects mid-way. They’re furloughed. This is more a gaslighty, elf-on-the-shelf kind of mind...

The Axe

My neighbor leaves his axe out in the rain. We are not neighbors, I don’t know His name; for two years we have waved And said something mundane about the weather As we passed. He’s skinny and gray and looks Like a salted redneck; he drives his golf...

Eisenhower Box

I have two kinds of problems: urgent and important. Around the block picking up a few knacks, still, way earlier than Sissypuss, loser, to City on Hill. Shot shit, talked old tie threads, strategically inveighed. Wide-berthed chronic whiners who’d...

Two Poems by Omar Martínez-Sandoval

It’s Too Hot in Mississippi   Honk and honk of the four wheels, the cry of the goose, this machine doesn’t care about the cyclist. They own the roads, don’t you dare ride in front of them. Stubborn. Why should you leave the road? Whatever. It’s...

Three Poems by Jill McDonough

Above Boston   From the air you could see everything—my neighborhood, probably my house. The T, the flat expanse of Stop and Shop, the new condos in what was the Catholic Church. MIT’s round dome; long shadows on the beaches of Revere. The...