Four Poems - Olexia Hart

Gentle Hands

Every day I come here it’s the exact same thing
Hands over me and I wish...
Hands under me and I wish...
In/out, out/in of me and I wish...
They were other hands
More gentle hands
Limbs of an untainted love

Trees

How do I say this?
Without sounding like a “B”
I don’t give a fuck about trees
Unless you can put it to your lips
and set its ass on fire
I recycle

The Long Drunk Fuck

He’s drunk; you’re not
Wanna scream hurry the fuck up
But you don’t say shit
Staring at the back of the couch
Negative eye roll in your head
Sloppy slip-outs
Breath!
The “ok, ok I’m almost finished” disclaimer
You sarcastically begin to back it up
oh ah oh ah daddy...
Just so he’ll hurry the hell up

Handprints

Your hands are all over me
Melting, splicing, molding into my forever
Swab test all wired and screwed up
Trying to imitate
The funky web assigned to you

Olexia Hart graduated from Howard University. She is currently working on her first poetry collection.

Three Poems - Scott Laudati

my first night back we were far apart once but you can hear my heart now in this chest, and your hair used to itch my skin if you didn’t tuck it back but you’ll never hear about it again

Three Poems - JD DeHart

Halfway Downs Hard earth against them, they stubbornly scramble, leaving behind the struggle, faces streaked with poverty, setting jaws like flint against the scratch

A Broken Head(set) - Jesus Rivera

This past summer was like all other suburban summers: short and hot. Short enough so that it came and went and, having not overstayed its welcome, would be welcomed again. Hot enough that little kids cracked eggs on their asphalt driveways, scrambled for a round of hide and go seek, and before the tiny seeker could finish counting to ten and move her hands from her eyes, the yolks were very well done. On both sides.

White Liquor

Search This Blog