the sieve and the sand

Leaving the wheat with the chaff. This is not your mother’s poetry.

thin skin

by rcribay

words sever
flesh you’re made
of paper cut outs
ripped up
and dropped down.

Predicament

by Julio Chapluzki

I really want to go
hunting today
but I don’t want to
call the uncle-in-
law to ask if I can
hunt on his land so
now what to do? what
to do? what to do?
what will I ever do?

hakpoo

by Roger Mugs

dark squares set in white
framed by blue marble tile
holding up my bathroom

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