Parnaz Foroutan
There was a man who used to walk the same stretch of the road between Tehran and the Caspian Sea. In the flat expanse of a valley, after the highway wound down from the mountains and before it climbed back up, there was a long stretch of farms, and bee hives, wooden boxes full of bees and glistening honey.
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Stanislav Dvorský
perjury of lightning bolts: /
a fish spine rises from the trenches of the wound-up day, /
disrupting darkness
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Radka Thea Otípková
At night I become his missing arm. /
The one he lost on the front, looked for /
years later and didn´t find.
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Jeffrey McDaniel
Bless the silence. Bless the hiss. Bless the punch. /
Bless the kiss. Bless the lemon. Bless the lime. //
Bless the fishbone in the throat of time.
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R. A. Allen
I went out to my mailbox. /
Everything was addressed to a previous occupant (twice removed) /
who is now, /
according to my neighbors, / deceased.
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