Mark Terrill
WAITING FOR THE VULGARIANS
The painter paints a poem in black & white.
The poet paints a fist full of flowers,
a cloud held...
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Mark Terrill
In the blue-aired seaman’s mission/ the TV is hotwired and pulsing./ In the blaze of the marquee outside/ her fist opens slowly/ like a fleshy pink flower
Volker Sielaff
Language/ is not only made of words, it requires/ further presence or one of a white-/ blooming winter-head of snow.
Stanley M. Noah
The tin canister from an attic to a garage sell had no label, no title. "Five dollars," he said, / adding, "you take // your chances, five."
