Zane slaves over a rock ballad,

tears on cheek,

flared mauve chaps,

bullion lips.


two takes,

has cigar,

calls it a Mayflower nickel,

wages, an emotional pilgrimage.


not enough,

take ten.


pauses for recall,

popular remainders and pulse,

a twinkie that belts out words,

a token underground commute.


still indy,

groomed on grunge, gap,

back issues of spin.

weened on theft and quick oats.


shows arrive late,

bail for bankrupt minors,

song sinks in scale,

rises, fills fans and dies.


we give quarter, its claim,

provide comfort, crowd and cane.

thanks, no, recites Zane,

i’m spent, social and sane.

You Might Also Enjoy


Kamilah Aisha Moon

-Galveston, TX What in the year of whose Lord
2019 to whom the concept
of mercy for everyone
is meaningless do. . .



Tara Skurtu

But it was I who held your arm as the three gravediggers hammered your father’s narrow coffin shut.


Further Reading

Heads Up: We recently updated our privacy policy to clarify how and why we collect personal data. By using our site, you acknowledge that you have read and understand this policy.