It Doesn't Matter How Loud
by Simon Perchik
It doesn't matter how loud
--you are listening to someone
who isn't here, a love song
half covered with dust, half
moves closer as sunlight
brushing against her breasts
for their pollen though you
don't sing along, are clutching
a motionless flower between your lips
--even without the radio
you are breathed upon, the Earth
made whole from just two lips
and that first breeze
still circling the sun
--you are embraced! healed
the way each evening closes
is never found though in the dark
you can still hear it falling
and the echo helps you make sense
how the same kiss opens only one cry
when two mouths are broken.
Bio: Simon Perchik's poetry has appeared in Partisan Review, The Nation, The New Yorker and elsewhere.
by Len Kuntz
And in the early morning if there is no friend again
And if the sky is still wearing her blue-black face
Hiding all those stars with the moon behind her skirt
I at least have poems to read
Books and books of them
Each a certain form of sustenance itself
So much so that when I finish
Reading a half-dozen or more
I can scarcely think about breakfast
And those fish outside the window in the lake
And that beaver in the lake too
And the eagle flying high overhead
They all know what I’ve just learned
When we are most alone and scared
There are places to go
Words to seek like medicine
That can fill our hollow spaces
And heal wounds we thought
We’d wear forever
Bio: Len Kuntz is a writer from Washington State and an editor at the online magazine Literary Orphans. His story collection THE DARK SUNSHINE debuted from Connotation Press in 2014. You can also find him at lenkuntz.blogspot.com .
A STAGE FOR SORROW AND COMFORT
by Richard Fein
Two women, maybe sisters, are on the corner.
One cries and one wraps her arms around the other.
And around them cars horns blast so ear-splitting loud.
The whole city seems on hold, and so do they,
standing motionless and so desperately clinging.
On that corner, on that ground, comforter and comforted seem frozen
on a sliver of city real estate surrounded by traffic
while city skyscrapers look on.
Two women, maybe sisters, one sobs, the other hugs.
Then they move on, for what else could they do,
but to leave that corner, that empty stage
where yet some other human drama will soon be played
before some other audience other than me.
Bio :Richard Fein was a finalist in The 2004 New York Center for Book Arts Chapbook Competition A Chapbook of his poems was published by Parallel Press, University of Wisconsin, Madison. He has been published in many web and print journals such as:Reed, Southern Review, Roanoke Review, Skyline Magazine, Birmingham Poetry Review, Mississippi Review, Paris/atlantic, Canadian Dimension and many others.