M. Brooke Wiese

Unfavorable Weather Over the Bay

 

All week the wind pushed rough water

up over the bulkhead, wave on wave

as far as you could see to the other

side of the bay. Buffleheads and gulls, unfazed,

 

bobbed up and down like surfers calmly waiting

for the perfect ride, disappearing,

reappearing. A week of alternating

rain and sleet, then a brief clearing

 

just in time for one riotous sunset.

Overnight the wind did its best

to blow the house down; the sudden onset

of a wintery squall was the final test,

 

splatting windows with wet snow that obscured

the bay, then froze on power lines, knocking

out traffic lights along the Boulevard –

but it was our boiler’s failure that finally sent us packing

 

back to the city, the car’s heat cranked full blast,

wipers going like the dickens, the boys

asleep in the back seat, and you driving fast

as if we could somehow outrun this winter malaise.

 

Brooke Wiese

Brooke Wiese’s work has appeared most recently in Snakeskin, Persimmon Tree, The Orchards, The Road Not Taken, Voices and Visions Journal, New Lyre, and Spoon River Poetry Review. Her second chapbook, Memento Mori, is available from Finishing Line Press, and a third, Allen Ginsberg is a Mensch, is now out from Bottlecap Press. After a very long hiatus, she has been writing furiously again. Brooke lives with her wife and sons in New York City and currently teaches at a special education inclusion school in Manhattan to high school students of all abilities. www.mbrookewiese.net

Greta Kaluževičiūtė

a friendly reminder

ilgesys

 

Greta Kaluževičiūtė

Greta Kaluževičiūtė is a Lithuanian writer and amateur photographer. Her work explores intimacy, proximity, and the psychological tension embedded in everyday encounters. She is also a psychoanalytic researcher and holds a PhD in Psychoanalytic Studies from the University of Essex, UK.

Kenneth Boyd

Hot Rhythm

Archibald Motley (United States, 1961)

 

The backbone of surprise is fusing speed with secrecy.

Carl von Clausewitz (1780-1831)

 

If this dream could dance, I’d feel it in my veins

Circulating in rhythms of dazzling dances

The fusion of primitive roots found in my nature

Echoes hanging in the hills like conjured arrangements

For a modulating hang-time of reckless rhapsodies

Sent a timbre of waves resonating through me

 

By the thunder of my heart you could find me

Not where I was brought up or the legacy in my veins

Forces of fire and wind found in rhapsodies

The dialect of my horn was heard in dances

Interpreting the lingo repeated in blazing arrangements

Cast with copper and zinc from nature

 

Always faster, like a sonic boom, to awaken nature

Stunning and spellbound reflection of forces in me

Elevated restoration of bright sounding arrangements

Pulling along titanic ensembles with boiling veins

“Without etiquette,” said the erudite critics of dances

Radiogenic to silvery tolerance for bullish rhapsodies

 

 

Muscle memory residue echoing in sultry rhapsodies

Repealing the imposition of new rhythms of nature

Elements of an off-beat life-force persisting in dances

The approach of a shouting force majeure in me

My war-like call as fast as cocaine in my startled veins

Jolting from an annular soul of tarnished arrangements

 

Melodies for any who would burnish the arrangements

Torrential intuition of endless musical rhapsodies

Coming down from hills of migrated musical veins

Translation of swelling emotions beyond a listeners’ nature

A reverie of impressionistic showgirls crushing me

Without the ability to hide in the shindig of dances

 

My sound and soul settling in sweet and somber dances

Brandishing luminously time-insensitive arrangements

Or a discreet show of red was a commandment

For bravery, ego, and artistry in rhapsodies

Unapologetically trenchant in a temperamental nature

A blue beret to hide the apocalypse in my veins

 

Knowing me was to know the riot in my veins

Swelling in arrangements of a lyrical nature

My refuge preserved in thundering rhapsodies

 

 

Art Source: https://nasher.duke.edu/stories/archibald-motley-hot-rhythm-1961/

 

 

Kenneth Boyd

Kenneth Boyd is a neurodivergent poet and former jazz musician. As an emerging writer, his poetry appears in The Ekphrastic Review, Of Poets & Poetry, Wayfarer Magazine, eMerge Magazine, Flora Fiction, Unlost Journal, and elsewhere. He is a winner of the 2024 Royal Palm Literary Award, Empyrean Poetry Competition, and the Penumbra Poetry Contest. His debut poetry collection, Grasshopper Dreams, was published in 2023. Kenneth is a graduate of the UCLAx Creative Writing Program and an Assistant Poetry Editor at Southland Alibi magazine. He embraces life in the South with his wife and dog Stella. He enjoys fine jazz, fine cigars, and fine pork pie hats. More about him can be found at www.bardopoetry.com and @BardoPoetry on social media.

Francine Witte

Test

This is a test. A heartbeat test. A bloodbeat test. My doctor tells me I’m going to die. This is certain. I want to tell the doctor it’s OK

My doctor is a quack. Quick homemade remedies — everything to cure halitosis and eczema. You can’t leave his office without buying.

****

My husband is in love with another woman. This is not a test. My heartbeat knows it.  My bloodbeat knows it. My husband is going to leave me. This is certain I want to tell my husband it’s OK

My husband is a jerk. Quick homemade remedies of stink flowers and empty promises. You can’t leave an argument without buying.

***

I’m heading into loveless now and lifeless now. I am almost not a patient I am almost not a wife. There is no test for this, I just know it. There is nothing I can buy that will change anything. I want to tell myself it’s OK.

Francine Witte

Francine Witte is a flash fiction writer and poet, and the author of the flash collection RADIO WATER. Her newest poetry book, Some Distant Pin of Light, has just been published by Cervena Barva Press. Her work has been widely published, and she is a recent recipient of a Pushcart Prize. She lives in New York City. Please visit her website francinewitte.com. She can be found on social media @francinewitte.

Sarah Sorensen

So You’ve Decided to Convert Your Middle-Aged Bedroom into a Magical Forest But All You Have is Amazon and Weed

 

Take the edible and ask yourself which discount rug seems most like grass. Whisper the now popular refrain “touch grass.” Then make sure that it won’t feel like grass, but draw the line at watching an “unboxing” video. Select accompanying “portal” curtains, wall-size mushroom tapestries, and a comforter that looks like glistening moss under the cool blue moonlight. Change the quantity on the grass vibe rug. You will need 3. You should be ensconced. One rug cannot provide more than a sample patch. Will your feet sink into it? That’s necessary. Of course, if they sink in too far the vacuum will devour it and burn out its belt. That’s what happened when it ate a catnip mouse. Check for a depth measurement.

Will the portal look silly if the curtains’ width is too wide? Select a narrower width so as not to crumple the magical image printed on them when they are hung up. Confront a different problem. Will the curtains provide blackout calm if they only just kiss in the center? It’s possible that the forced air heat could pop them open at vulnerable moments of nudity. Decide to sacrifice the integrity of the portal image and change back to a wider width.

Assess your cart total. Save most items for later.

Become distracted by the photographic tiger wall decal. Would a tiger enter a magical forest, and if not, why not? Add to cart. You’ll have a tiger. You deserve that much.

Close the app. Take a moment to ask yourself if this transformation can save you from the shit life you built. After all, you’ll mostly be asleep in here. Odds of teleporting to a believably magic land are low. You’ll still do things like buy groceries, pay bills online, and go to work nearly everyday of your entire life. You’ll still be annoyed by traffic and by every stripe of human incompetence within your purview.

Open the app.

Rethink this whole thing and convert the plan to Granny’s gentle country cottage. You’ll need crochet everything. Is now the right time to consider a shelf? It is. You’ll require a series of porcelain dolls and those will each need a doll stand. Should their hair color be consistent? What if you select all redheads? That seems cozy. Type in “porcelain dolls with red hair.” Observe the prices and consider your investment pieces. Type “cross stitch tissue box holder.”

Close the app. Re-open.

Re-think in ocean submersion. Add watery curtains galloping with dolphins. Change to orca pattern. Consider a light projector that mimics waves. Type “ocean decal.” The shark is too aggressive. Scroll for manatee.

Shut the app. Okay, okay. Re-open. Let’s get this right.

Rethink in vintage bordello. A velvet comforter and rhinestone chandeliers. You’ll need new knobs on your accordian-style closet door, something opulent.

Stop. Buy nothing. Close the fucking app. My god.

 

Sarah Sorensen

Sarah Sorensen (she/her), MA, MLIS is a queer writer based in the Metro Detroit area. She has been published over 80 times in literary magazines, but her most recent work appears in Another Chicago Magazine and Garland. She’s honored to be a Best Small Fictions 2025 and runner-up in the 2025 Rock Paper Poem Poetry Contest. Sarah is currently completing her first novel, despite an array of distractions from her fiery dog daughter and unstoppable cat son. Until then, you can find her forthcoming work in The Broadkill Review and Prime Number Magazine!

DM Frech, Featured Artist

Storm Over Ocean - DM Frech

Storm Over Ocean

Tree Down - DM Frech

Tree Down

DM Frech

DM Frech has a BFA and an MFA in dance from New York University’s Tisch School of the Arts and is a member of The Muse, Poetry Society of VA, The Writers Guild of Virginia, James River Writers, KPC Writers, Virginia Writers, and so on. She writes poetry, children’s books, fiction, non-fiction, screenplays, and is an avid photographer. DM is also an award-winning writer with creative work in the Writers’ Journal, WayWords Literary Journal, The Journal of Writers Guild of Virginia, The Poet’s Choice, Noble House, Burningword Journal, Streetlight Magazine, New Feathers Anthology, and The Bangalore Review, and soon in Virginia Writers’ Club Journal. Finishing Line Press published her poetry chapbooks: QUIET TREE and WORDS FROM WALLS, which can be found on the FLP website, Amazon, Barnes & Noble, and Goodreads. By the grace of God, she walks the earth, explores humanity’s struggle to exist in a universe of unknowns, and, when in doubt, hugs trees. DM can be followed at: amazon.com/author/dmfrech