past the cairn

fingertips scouring the thermals for the tenth time :: recently smashed moon in bits of laughter

chilli con carn upended tribunal for abusing the privilege :: waka in starts and stops the dither over sumi-e brush strokes

ever wonder why not as the koel’s song triangulates your location :: into and out of scripture the fidelity of text

come catch the river clone in the hearing of a blue whale :: winter warmers in folded mousetraps singing the dirge

clumps of mushrooms on sandalwood marching on their heads :: this the windchill in the pines

Samar Ghose

19 Scrutinies Of A Corvid Nature

I
viral in its alpha
and in its omega
Crow’s darker side

II
challenging
the verb “to be”
Crow marches on

III
2019 novel
Crow covets another’s
dystopian theme

IV
Crow recomposes
Vingt Regards sur l’Enfant-Jésus
in his own image

V
dead by daylight
Crow gives away
the game

VI
ICU
Crow eyeballs the soul
leaving the body

VII
knowing the final chapter
Crow breaches quarantine
blacker than ever

VIII
fed up with life
Crow empties his bowels
onto a wet market

IX
been there, done that
Crow recites his litany
of first causes

X
in Trump’s world
Crow never changes
his mourning attire

XI
with just caws
Crow plagues the living daylights
out of all who heed him

XII
bare-faced lies
Crow shuns all masks
of giving a damn

XIII
one of 13 black birds
Crow gorges himself
on his nature

XIV
Crow’s credo
faith in him is caught
not taught

XV
obsidian cross
Crow reflects on his fame
for the masses

XVI
a black death
Crow divides himself
by zero

XVII
mocking Stevens
Crow goose-steps through the snow
to die alone

XVIII
drawn and quartered
Crow tunes humankind up
for the end of time

XIX
change of climate
Crow strings up the white flag
of himself

Hansha Teki

Banana Fritters

in the far darkness
of Mother’s former closet
her lace handkerchief with
the tiny hole in the corner
and her lavender scent

lullabies between
favorite sweaters
always an untold story
with the yellow petticoat
can you hear me Elvis?

the stack of letters
with the blue ribbon
and father’s handwriting

it’s all over now, Baby Blue
two magpies are fighting
over a dead wren

nevertheless, the moon shows his pink face tonight only for you

Isabella Kramer