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Time Whitewashed in Snow by Yuan Changming
Hesitantly, the snowflakes keep Swinging around until their final fall To the ground, in thickening stillness As the present becomes gradually Assimilated to the past (or future?) All in a wild white world of fairy tales ____________________________________________________________ Yuan Changming published monographs on translation before leaving China. Currently, Yuan lives in Vancouver, where he edits Poetry Pacific with Allen Qing Yuan; credits…
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Keepstake by Joan McNerney
There are too manyclocks and not enoughtime. I will takeand keep this minutefor myself. This minuteof mercurythis swift nightas sleepless starsglide throughthe sky inaerial ballet. ____________________________________________________________ Joan McNerney’s poetry has been included in numerous literary magazines such as Seven Circle Press, Dinner with the Muse, Moonlight Dreamers of Yellow Haze, Blueline,…
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Beyond Time by Yuan Changming
It took hundreds… of thousands …of yearsFor …homo erectus to evolve …into sapiensAnd longer …for chimpanzees to …erectus But …engineering ourselves …by way ofBiochemistry… cyborg and… AI, we areUpgrading …ourselves into… godlings – all it Takes… will be just half a century …where scienceBeats gods …and devils, saints and ghosts…
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Mr Spaceman by John Grey
Yes, that’s me in the photo.NASA spacesuit.Helmet at my side.Grin as wide as a quarter moon. Speaking of the moon,I’ve been there fifteen times.I know the cratersbetter than I know my own kids. I’ve done countdownand escape velocityand zero gravityand all the rest of it. And, when I go someplace…
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Mayday by David Hartley
Today, in the village of Mayday, only ticketed tourists walk the parade route, led by dead-eyed actors in cheap costumes who spout fast and dubious facts. But the actors are bit-parts in the theatrics of Mayday herself: England’s Village of the Vanished. The tourists frame the route on their phones. The…
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Han’s Solo by Mark Blickley & Keith Goldstein
I’ve had this recurring Bridge Dream for nearly fifteen years. It first appeared one night after being exhausted by cram studying for my Bar Mitzvah. In this initial fantasy I was a swaddled infant left on the very beginning of a long and twisting walkway through a vibrant yet desolate…
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Memory, Time: A Poem in Movable Parts by Mark Fitzpatrick
i. sunken ship off the coast ofsomewhere the Andre Doréof dreams forgotten nobody listed as passengerscaptain and crew names of no one I knew — but to explore such loss without memory this is what time does to all of us ii. mysterious woods this is the place we waltz tosloppily built treehouse with a blue-grey tarp(so…
Take Us On A Journey To Somewhen
