The rental gear's here suss it / All out snare crack bass thunk / Pick squeal how does it feel / To be so far from home each
By Harold Whit WilliamsA spider dangles from under the airless, / rusted green radiator. / When I swing my hand across it, its string // sticks to my skin. It looks at
By Daniel KrainesEven the men in the bar at TGI Fridays knew what foxes do to toddlers.
By Nicole CallihanA state senator from somewhere declares, None of these liberties mean much after you’re dead, though who knows what he said before
By James GrabillAnd if your parents decided to split, say I am a // statistics major. And if you had trouble making white friends stay that way, say /
By Cortney CharlestonWhen the grass is still matted down / from a body, you comb it over each day / so it will stay in shape; you mold to it,
By Ryann StevensonYour blessed to be even to be / shoulder talk to me, even your prove it blame and bless.
By Jay Deshpandefather / dreams of / the fountain / he visits / he stays / he looks into its center / thinks he sees a world
By Zuzanna JuszkiewiczMy mother finds out about the child I did not have from Facebook. This is how regret arrives: in the arms of machines.
By Emily O'NeillThe you in a stranger’s bed, / closing your eyes once / thinking only ocean.
By Keegan LesterA woman plants / my name in her bone / but will not tell me / when rain is coming
By Hafizah Geter© 2014 Blunderbuss Magazine. All rights reserved.