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Ricky Garni :: Three poems


It’s funny, when I was little, I never looked at my phone 
to see if someone had written me a letter that I could not 
toss into a roaring fire


The dictionary is really just a tree with leaves that fall to the ground. I like to pick them up 
and make them into funny shapes. Once a year I collect them all and put them into a basket 
and burn them so that they might grow again. But never in Fall. Never in Fall.


I dreamt I was walking on a sidewalk behind an orchestra single file on their way to lunch.
I was the 111th person in line. Which made me think I was really thinking about war rather than music. Or perhaps symmetry and food. Of perhaps that we float in the air in a melody at night.

Ricky Garni grew up in Miami and Maine. He works as a graphic designer by day and writes music by night. COO, a tiny collection of short prose printed on college lined paper with found materials such as coins, stamps, was recently released by Bitterzoet Press.

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submissions :: where is the river

Up to six poems in a single .doc file with author biography and photo to

All rights revert to the author/s upon publication.

Elidio La Torre Lagares :: Six poems

walking in Rome
male cicadas foretell the sun
the distance of rain as we walk
through Rome on the 25th of July:
the history of Empire

i touch the breath of fireinside
my mouth birds peck at
dormant words under my steps

roads lead into alibis for an idea of time
when tutte strada vanno a Roma

lady Cicadas, on the other hand, treasure
silence around the marbled stories
of Villa Burghese

Sophie walks beside me painting
the air longing dreams
the world conforms a canvasher voice
a ripe fruit that floats
on the Roman landscape

from the hills of Villa Medici the city
spreads like the wings of an eagle of light
constantly diffusing emergingsomehow
the impending clearance of dependences
melts with the gradation of memories the precise
clockwork of stages

with loss and life to gain

clouds travel homeless


The Roman Colosseum-
round as a certainty
or the eye of a hurricane-
was once one of the
seventh wonders
of the world. But, little
is known of it compared
to the years it has outlasted
time and earth…

issue four :: March/April 2018