When 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 Stevensonfather / dreams of / the fountain / he visits / he stays / he looks into its center / thinks he sees a world
By Zuzanna JuszkiewiczThe 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 Geterif you journey home by nightlight consider / how much the beak’s wielded innocence can rend and tear
By Rich Ives(meanwhile) (my idol suggested we go someplace) / (so I cd show him my stretch-marks) (what did u call them) (the lion's miss-timed / leap
By Montana Raythe last flower i saw in south suicide / queens was on a little girl’s tee, a trio / of violets banged up with giddiness—
By Amber AtiyaWe are under an upturned boat a keel of stars / just us and the other leaf eaters
By Allan Peterson© 2014 Blunderbuss Magazine. All rights reserved.