Apologies to W.C. by Luis Cuauhtémoc Berriozábal

I could be drunk,

resting my bones

in the red wheelbarrow 

glazed and dazed

by the white chickens 

besides the fence,

but alas there is no

fence or white chickens,

and there is definitely 

no red wheelbarrow.

Luis was born in Mexico, lives in California, and works in the mental health 

field in Los Angeles, CA. His poems have appeared in Ariel Chart, Beatnik Cowboy,

Dope Fiend Daily, Unlikely Stories, and Zygote In My Coffee.

I Went on a Walk to Clear My Head. By Gwil James Thomas

 

On a street in Antiguo, 

a man on a quad bike 

waits at the lights, 

munching a handful 

of Sour Cream Pringles 

from a packet by his crotch - 

a bright white worm is 

partially stuck to the tyre 

of a parked jeep, 

looking otherworldly 

against the jet black rubber - 

a man wanders over 

and welcomes the worm 

with a cloud of 

cigarette smoke,

before squishing it 

with his plimsol - 

a couple of floors up, 

through open window shutters 

an elderly woman stares 

down and cries, 

as a young woman 

on a balcony to the right 

starts playing the violin 

and grins, 

beautifully.

Gwil James Thomas is a novelist, poet and inept musician from Bristol, England. He is a Best of The Net nominee whose work can be found widely in print and also online. He is currently laying low somewhere in Northern Spain. His fourth poetry chapbook - Writing Beer, Drinking Poetry (Concrete Meat Press) can be found here: 

https://adrianmanning.wixsite.com/concretemeatpress/publications

GRUMPY OLD ZEN. By R.M. Englehardt.

The students nowadays 

Do not know the Dharma

The morphic fields

Are all disturbed

The collective 

Conciousness

Is a mess

Clean your mind!

Your space

Your room

The world

Damn kids

No monestary

For you

A Poet, Writer, Author over the last 25 years R.M. Engelhardt has been published in such magazines as Thunder Sandwich, Rusty Truck, Writers' Resist, Dry Land Lit, Hobo Camp Review, Cajun Mutt, The Outlaw Poetry Network & in many others.

He currently lives and writes in Upstate NY.

His new book is " Dark Lands" published by Whiskey City Press and available on LuLu & Amazon.

http://www.lulu.com/shop/rm-engelhardt/darklands-poems/paperback/product-24216297.html

Whispers by Jonathan Butcher

That blade of air slowly slices this room,
and separates us completely. It allows
the blank stares to run free at any table,
no need for us to sit opposite.

The words that bounce from the bottle,
like moths to a light bulb, and fall straight
into our throats. From the pit of our stomachs
they are regurgitated with even less meaning.

So incomplete those final meetings, that allow
us to convince ourselves we are rested without
guilt. The shards of false sentiment marinated
in cheap wine and cobwebs, now just slightly less
repetitive. 

After that last sip, both our faces drop at
the very mention of this repeating. That blade
of air now blunted, and I shuffle towards that
beckoning door, without the risk of permanent
scars.

Jonathan Butcher is a poet based in Sheffield, England. He has had work appear in various print and online publications including: Popshot, Ex-Ex Literature, The Transnational, Sick-Lit, Drunk Monkeys, The Morning Star, Mad Swirl and others. He edits the online poetry journal 'Fixator Press', through which his third chapbook, 'Corroded Gardens' was published.  

Five Thousand For A Poem by Ian Lewis Copestick

Last night I saw an advert
For a poetry contest
And it said the prize
Was cash, #5000.
Naturally I got excited,
Here was a chance to
Make some money
From my writing and
Serious money at that.
I was warming up my muse
Getting ready to
Pound the page.
Then I noticed
It was Nigerian currency
I checked it out on Google
And 5000 works out as
£11:50. That brought
Me back down to earth.
I know that it's not
About the money
But
Now I'm not quite
So excited.

Ian Lewis Copestick is a 46 year old writer (I prefer that term to poet ) from Stoke on Trent, England. I spend most of my life sitting,  thinking then sometimes writing. I have been published in Anti Heroin Chic, the Dope Fiend Daily, Outlaw Poetry, Synchronized Chaos, the Rye Whiskey Review, Medusa's Kitchen and Horror Sleaze Trash.

THE SINK/CHORE MOTHER GIVES ME by Chani Zwibel

Dirty dishes don’t do
Themselves
She said and let me put my hands in mushy water grey with grime.
I hated how
The water felt
And the food-residue clumps
Clung to the dishes,
but loved the lemon-scented dish detergent.
I concentrated on the garden outside the window.
Needed mint to grow and last through winter frosts.

Chani Zwibel is the author of Cave Dreams to Star Portals. She is an associate editor with Madness Muse Press. She is a graduate of Agnes Scott College, who was born and raised in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania, but now dwells in Marietta, Georgia, with her husband and their dog. She co-hosts an open mic night called Poetry and Palette once a month at The Good Acting Studio in Marietta.

Red Light Prayer by Tobi Alfier

Green cowboy boots and short skirts,
she makes the man in the Cadillac cry.
She matched him shot for shot last night,
striated clouds a clever filter for
the moon that turns us wicked
and now she’s home, feeling nothing
but blinded by light, and full.  He’s going
to church.  Fucked and fucked, his radio
turned up to make him forget, hand
out the window trying to hitch a ride
on the forget-it-all train.  What the hell
was he thinking and what on Earth
will he do now?  Roll through a red
and pray for rescue.

 Tobi Alfier is a multiple Pushcart nominee and multiple Best of the Net nominee. Both “Slices of Alice & Other Character Studies” and a reprint of “Sanity Among the Wildflowers” were published by Cholla Needles Press. She is co-editor of San Pedro River Review (www.bluehorsepress.com)

Previously published in RE:AL  - 2010