poetry
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MEM RY AND C GNITI N – Russell Reza-Khaliq Gonzaga
Will my mother remember who I am The next time I see her? Last time I was her brother, this time I’m my father Cognition fades as neurons fail The next time I see her I may be nothing but a stranger Cognition fades as neurons fail Memory tattered, shattered and shade I may be…
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Through The Night – Doug Johnson
Her wares neatly placed On the uneven sidewalk Drawn into the shadows She offers a free smile No one takes notice No one takes a look At the finely-woven Blue and white blanket Nor the silver spoons, The carefully-organized Tea cups and saucers, Nor the beaded purse Back pressed to the wall Day exchanged for…
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her photo – Julie Southworth
because this time she told her dad to smile, her photo because a camera shielded her from his not now, goddammit face, because a camera made him forget not now, goddammit, her photo when light rained onto film as she pressed the button and commanded cheese, when she ripped apart the drugstore envelope that held…
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Corsets and Heels – Tehmina Khan
stilettos stilts – water birds wading spike heels wedge heels short achilles stutter step stumble stop falling sprain tight bodice laced up breasts squeezed upwards woman as hourglass sifting sand through squished lungs I can’t breathe falling faint squeeze into skinny jeans smaller than size six calf muscles constricted tight tank top underwire plunge D-cup…
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Sweep – Y Lowy
to closely monitor your working liquids and to have found his voice glassy and unbearable and to have left the room to cry in the hallway and to have found someone already there, crying. it’s just that you thought the flood had already come so long ago and now it’s the aftershock, all reels and…
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Billy and Johnny (Just What You Do) – Bill Lautner
Billy and Johnny They were the best of friends They grew up in the hills of Tennessee Every fall when the leaves turned red, some brown They’d play ball together in the fields, in the barn. That’s just what you did after all. Billy and Johnny They were very much the same They both grew…
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Hubris – Jennifer Peloso
Try as I might, I can’t cut Hope out of me. I take scissors and snip off my fingers like a little girl mangling her paper dolls. And I find that it satisfies the tyrant in me. I pluck off my hair, too, One by one, from my head To test the follicles, extracting the…
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Untitled – Simeon Otyrba
Regardless of the value I feel in fluidity, often when without direction, I wish I had more form. I imagine I would erect myself and propel towards anything but the washing-away. Do away with the drifting, the push and pull, the blur of environmental embrace. To be a form for form’s sake. But the form…
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Interview with Athena Kashyap
The following is an interview by Thomas Hesketh, Poetry Editor of Forum, with Athena Kashyap. What’s it like to be named after a goddess? Well, the thing is it’s not just any goddess, it’s a Greek goddess. A lot of Indians have the names of goddesses. Growing up in India with the name of a…
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Birch – Matt Luedke
The wind is too cold to smell like anything. All it carries now are secrets. Not the kind of secrets everyone thinks of first: Forbidden lovers Spies with disguised loyalty. Instead, the secrets of tiny, perpetual revolution: Skepticism lodging in the slums of the stomach Unsatisfied yearning driving the eyes Unfaceable loneliness turning a warm…
Forum Literary Magazine 