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Poetry: David Blumenshine

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Crush

the power fist which has built a city scape of vaguities

in which pious co-war with nothing else to do

however

without capacity to cultivate possible talents of subjects

power dwindles at its own hand

elite ego suicide

chocolate for survivors

but the field is now

completely open to all

possibilities and they shall

occur there is time

where there is no time

Errest

breakfast in debt

yet stars twang

to the brass knuckles

of my super duper self

awareness party scarlet

fly when she cameos

bearing a bill + gratuity

banter—fuller or dent—

is all that is heard so quick

to egg a grade a school

we forgot we forgot

the lone goal of one day

being a dover thrift edition

Rich U-Haul

lord father jesus godhead

please forgive

my sloppy gender transference

of ramen bits package

to water pot which lost

at least one forkfull

lord imaginary callous reader

please forgive

your estimation of sincerity

poor poverty tolerance

and me for making all

of us up to begin with

Sliding into Third

my little lumps

less less and less

lovely as days have

regard for runners as I pray

for local white castles

to open I need those onions diced

incomparable and how nice would not feeling a need

to boycott food

Oak Marrow

spinal crucifix & I dream

dreams of consideration

concerning the first person

to insufflate dope doped

up in my whip & chains

cool harsh ing ing my buzz

cut hum drum iambic acoustics

All rights reserved to David Blumenshine.

Poetry: Donna Vorreyer

Poetry: Meryl DePasquale