Beyond the Golden Border By April Ridge

I am waiting 

outside the Staples

that was supposed to 

be open, but the gates 

are still drawn. 

All the lights are on 

and the second set of 

automatic doors are cracked 

just a few inches. 

My imagination runs wild 

as I watch people 

walking up to the doors,

peering in the windows 

closely talking to one another 

about their not being open yet,

leaving with a frustrated, disgusted look 

on their faces. 

I imagine a workplace love suicide.

A weird love triangle gone wrong.

A robbery of large proportions. 

Someone woke 

suddenly 

in the middle of the night

deciding to leave their life behind. 

They're so sick 

of being the manager 

of a Staples and 

they want to see 

what is going on 

beyond the golden border 

of Mexico. 

Perhaps they can 

open a little cantina

with a special 

on margaritas,

Taco Tuesday 

being every day.

April Ridge lives in the expansive hopes and dreams of melancholy rescue cats. She thrives on strong coffee, and lives for danger. In the midst of Indiana pines, she follows her heart out to the horizon of reality and hopes never to return to the misty sands of the nightmarish 9 to 5. April aspires to beat seasonal depression with a well-carved stick, and to one day experience the splendor of the Cucumber Magnolia tree in bloom. 

The Barely Admitted By Manny Grimaldi

By now, if we hadn't had our children,

we would have flown without 

goodbyes, left each other 

snoring in the bedroom, snuck 

through the back door 

into a car, taken 

the California State roads 

into the fire 

& danced together.

Manny Grimaldi believes inhaling Big Leafy Frond-sourced oxygen is good for the pancreas and can cure a variety of diseases of the spleen. He grows the real shit deep forest way, Kentucky. Watch for trip-wires and shotguns. The real story is at https://mannygrimaldi.mypixieset.com. His books include Riding Shotgun with the Mothman and ex libris Ioannes Cerva, soon to be followed by Finding a Word to Describe You with Whiskey City Press.

Better than Packard By Brenton Booth

I read him

the eight

poems

I had

written

over the

past two

weeks.

He liked

the 

shortest,

hardest

one best.

The one

none of

the editors

would ever

want,

or even

try to

understand.

My friend

with the

calloused 

palms--

the world's

greatest

editor.

Brenton Booth lives in Sydney, Australia. Poetry of his has appeared in Gargoyle, New York Quarterly, North Dakota Quarterly, Chiron Review, Main Street Rag, Naugatuck River Review, Heavy Feather Review, and Nerve Cowboy. He has two full length collections available from Epic Rites Press.  

ALL OF IT ON BLACK By Dan Flore III

I’m not up for an inspirational story

give me someone inconsolable

give me good sex

give me my blurred reflection on

the countertop of the bar

the phone is too loud and I need some water

all the crickets have died

I’ve got my pills

my manipulations

I call you a money queen

but even you can’t get me outta this

the night is brutal

and so am I

Dan Flore III’s writings have appeared in many publications. He is the author of several books, the latest being EVERYTHING MUST GO. (Cajun Mutt Press)

40-words on DEATH By Wayne F. Burke

Death is a thief, a liar

and a cheat

that never returns

what it takes;

death is a punk

without respect.

Death wins every

debate; always

has the final say.

Call it Bitch or

Bastard, but it is

the Master.

Wayne F. Burke's poetry has been widely published online and in print (including in THE RYE WHISKEY REVIEW). His newest book, a novel, titled NO TAB FOR SULLY, is published by Alien Buddha Press. he lives in Vermont (USA).

DRAWING ROOM By Michael N. Thompson

 

Professional day drunks

and former child stars

unable to find work

congregate well before noon

inside this strip mall gin mill

like it’s a prayer service

Grim faces clinging to faded glory

tell barstool lies to anyone else

punch-drunk on nostalgia

An addict shooting up

in the men’s room

is just as common

as a cheap whore giving head

next to the dumpster out back

Not even the L.A. riots

could keep this place

from opening at six a.m.

Watered-down whiskey

has no curfew

As if the Drawing Room

wasn’t filled with enough sadness,

someone put five dollars worth

of Bob Dylan songs on the juke

 

Michael N. Thompson likes bacon, cats and fantasy football.  His poetry has appeared in numerous literary journals including Word Riot, Toronto Quarterly and San Pedro River Review. He is the author of four poetry collections, the most recent being A Murder Of Crows published by University of Hell Press

Shanidar Z By Rita S. Spalding

orange poppies on zala’s grave

placed with love upon a heart

cradled in her hand a stone

curved and carved and pressed tight

fingers stretch across all night

are we so different than 

the old poppy holder’s hand 

then and now compassion moans

bones and rigid brows define 

ancient ribbons bleed and wind 

reconstruct and gave a name

she picked flowers in the rain

Rita S. Spalding has had poems published in numerous anthologies and magazines. Her first book, Abstract Ribbons, was published in 1992. A second book, The Eighth, is currently at a publisher. She has received awards for poetry from Jefferson Community and Technical College, Elizabethtown Community College, National Library of Poetry, Kentucky Monthly Magazine and the Kentucky State Poetry Society. In 2024 she was a presenter at the Kentucky Writers Celebration in Danville and Historic Penn’s General Store, the Last Insomniacathon and she gives poetry readings regionally on a regular basis.