when i say my father is homeless, i mean:

when I say my father is homeless, I mean: by Harley Chapman a funhouse version of himself laughing,an eclipse where his mouth should be. so smart. Just like him. he fell off the roof one Christmas& kept on falling. The snow embraced himlike the open sea swallows a sinking ship. dad vs. the State of California. I am talking about criminalities.I am talking about the act of committing a crimeas inseparable from being a criminal. my face is a long stretch of unshavenyears, stacked neatly on the tile. each implosion is entirely my fault(it is not my faultbut it is, still, entirely my fault). a portrait of god in his sunhat, shears poisedbefore an unsuspecting shoot of green. I no longer wish to be called honey,shrink from your touch. my story is changing. I cannot rememberwhat is real & what is just a name. fuck the government. Fuck the law,the police, the purse-clutchers,& every asshole with a brand-new car. an alternative phrasefor airing your dirty laundry isI have nowhere left to hide. I made a mess of it, drank myself stupid& rode that white line like a bronc. the record is stuck. A scratchy repeat:just like him. each year feels more & more like a dare. shame is a debt unpayable. Please,don’t make me explain. Poetry Home Art by Belle Dorcas

Girlhood Sonnet

Girlhood Sonnet by Sophia Ivey I lost my girlhood when my brother ripped out my first baby tooth. I can still rummage through my mother’s attic to find the VHS tape of him holding the small bleeding thing with his hands as if it were a rock bass he had just caught down at Lake Apopka. I told my palm reader this and she insisted I find all of my baby teeth and burn them to ash. I don’t. I keep them in my nightstand, though, most nights I am eager to flick my lighter in the little girl’s direction, burn each tooth to ash, bury each crumb into the dirt so I will not be reminded of things that used to be mine to hold. It would be easier, I know, but instead, I am determined to suck on each tooth like a cherry sour until it is sweet enough for me to spit out. One day, when I am done, I will rest them on my kitchen windowsill. Dry them by the wishbones I save. Like a stuffed rock bass hung on a living room wall I will find pride in preserving a slaughtered thing. Poetry Home Art by k kuulz

Gub Dog

Gub Dog by Addy Gravatte Dedicated to the Holy Body of Saint Margery Kempe I want my real red blood on that faux pink fur But then it’d be burgundy— I’m too putrid for today Nobody don’t avoid me! Before you are very stupid and then you are smart I have always been a witch  And I have always been obliged To tell them I am no   When I was young I’d get a creature in my stomach And close my eyes I’d know I’d see My flesh, contracting to its slimmest space, Then expanding to its largest possibly —rapidly contracting, ‘twas gut-stuck between the two Until I remembered my tangible body It was proto-sexual for me! I am gross, oh I am a gross thing. Poetry Home Art by James Kelly Quigley

Šljivovica

Šljivovica by Celeste Colarič-Gonzales In the native lands    of the ghosts / who formed me / beyond the building  and unbuilding / of bone borders, bloodying / rivers of language / and names  eroding mountains / of faces and dirt, dispersing / across time and space / splintering / a body region / into dozens of / organs, appendages, nations / for all my ancestors lacked / their dirt homed / more ocean-hills of plums / than they could eat / so they drank them / across distinct lands and dialects / they harvested, summer through fall / fermented, through winter / palmed orbs of sunset / mauve-purple, crimson-gold / pulpy flesh falling in plumps / from the knuckle bones and nail-beds / of my ghost’s hands / dripping in red, sour-bitter juice / fingers working small globes / to their stone-cores / each of their parts / a territory divided / made useful    to the whole / seed, skin, and sweet blood / no additive needed / but time   their sacrificial bodies / sufficient / in yeast and sugar / for the wild   of their own / nature Poetry Home Art by GJ Gillespie

Dew On The Sea

Dew On the Sea by Claire Wahmanholm Star/savior is an infirm rhyme, but here:even the smallest music box will chimeif you place it all the way inside your ear.It’s like unfocusing your eyes to seethe nest snug within the burning wood;it’s like when the weather map pulses greenafter you look away from all that red;it’s like an artless belief in mercy(who is smarter and happier than youpermit yourself to be); it’s a near-dream.It all exists, but we may need to softenour bones to be born into it. Think dewon the sea, think hammered gold, think zygote.We may have to be both borne and boat. Poetry Home Art by Sean Riley

nothing is more sad than a waning moon

nothing is more sad than a waning moon by Sirka Elspass (transl. Anne-Sophie Balzer) nothing is more sad than a waning moon in dwindling candle light you write this to have a body means tremendous responsibility and no one is born knowing how it works   but someone has hung a flyer on the crescent  people are being sought after cats went missing if the apple is the embrace i am the worm  eating it away Poetry Home Art by Mickey Haist Jr.

The Cabinda spouses

The Cabinda spouses by Landa wo O mbé – dé 1 returned to life!O kuet – dé 2 who will protect us from lightning!If the bottom of the sea is luminous.Why does your dark eye not reflect a light of love? 1 The night hunter that kills the game for Cabinda villagers but is killed each morning by his last prey.2 The wife – widow of Mbé – dé, interred every morning and disinterred every evening before the hunt. Poetry Home Art by Keegan Baatz

Kaddish 9

Kaddish 9 by Daniela Naomi Molnar                                                 below the quick ]                                            [ surface currents of the                           mind muscular water moves     ]                                  [    undiluted sentience                               sole and fluid flow   ]                                                       [   through everyone your                                  tongue and your own wet breath   ]                [   already knows the nameless                           so it’s ok to disown the dead   ]                                         [   multiplication                and to disregard the sad arithmetic    ]                            [    of the bad and tired plan        it’s ok, do not call the failure any name   ]                                [   let your voice calve an inoculant                                            omission  ]                                                    [   of the self                  a home that’s all hinge  ]                                                                         [ let that zero                   loll    ]                                                                                                                        [    open be muttered or sung   ]                                                                                                      [muttered or sung by the nameless one    ]                                                                                                      [   a sound thick  as no mirror   ]                                                                                                                         [    and dense as love’s    ]                                                                                                                                    [  black hole   Poetry Home Art by Keegan Baatz

Kaddish 2

Please View this Poem on a Desktop Kaddish 2 by Daniela Naomi Molnar Let the rhyming, dying dream              carve a tunnel in your trachea                                            for breath then name                                                              Let the name be lush                                                                             Let the name be rangy                                                                                            roaming past time                                                                                                            to the source of language : a huddle of clean ash —                                                                                                                                                                  the only                                                                                                                                                           promise time makes                                                                                                                                           is to be ongoing                                                                                                                         an inconclusive light that cannot dim                                                                              forming                                                                                             pink organs and petals                                                  green fuses and rot                                                               the metastasizing muscle                                                                               the prison, the cell, the organelle                                                                                              the eight dollar cup of                                                 coffee the animal with no teeth in the hungry street                                                              the person with no love left in the desiccated                                                                             valley the quake the rubble the flood                                                                                           the bone-dense shadows                                                                                                         the traps sprung on                                                                                              sinew in inconclusive light                                                                             god a fermata