Michael Dickel’s poem, ”epistemological metaphysics of rhetorical hallucinations,” explores a mind.
A flight of fancy—escape through language, desire, politics—an end game—a poem by Michael Dickel.
Coffee Bruise Thursday features two poems from Reuben Woolley—different forms of loss, here we fall… Meta/ Phor(e) / Play
Three poems by Mike Stone about dreams and memories, some good, some not, on Meta/Phor(e)/Play
Four poems, comprising some family history narrative | Paul Brookes | Meta/Phor(e)/Play
These 3 poems by gary lundy dance to music & drink coffee—reading your meaning, meaning your reading.
I am honored to have my chapbook, Breakfast at the End of Capitalism, published by Locofo Chaps, out of Chicago.
Three poems & a Haiku sequence, written winter to spring—glimpses of the world through Mike Stone’s eyes.
Yarrow’s poems—three pas de deux partnering memory & family in delicate ballet | Meta/ Phor(e) / Play
Adeena Karasick takes us on a satiric tour through the shards and fragments of literary and post-consumerist culture.
Honesty and Transparency, the Post Truth Era—the latest issue of The BeZine, is up. Here is Jamie Dedes’ introduction. I lent a hand in publication, & have two poems and an essay in the May edition. Stop by at The BeZine and have a look.
A song for the times—simple chords & words. The Rains of Babylon | Bruised Coffee Thursday | Meta/ Phor(e) /Play
Reuben Woolley on Sunday Brunch Tuesday with 3 poems of geographic wistfulness | Meta/ Phor(e) /Play
Three poems from Michael Dickel, commentaries on himself and our times on Meta/ Phor(e) /Play. Now open for submissions.
Ann Bracken discusses Le Hinton’s poem, Cards Flash Back, on Meta/ Phor(e) /Play.
The voices speak poetry even as so much else happens, including the poet going out | Michael Dickel | Meta/ Phor(e) /Play
A wall waiting for graffiti, a lost love in Paris, psychedelic apple blossoms| hired sycophants | poems | J Matthew Waters
Hassan Melehy’s poems, Recriminations & Doctrines of Honesty, provide “unrepentant insolence”—perhaps of the Beats, perhaps of our own.