..:: CONTENTS ::..

   Volume XI, Issue I

..:: POETRY ::..

..:: PROSE ::..

..:: ETC ::..
   Contributor's Notes

..:: ARCHIVES ::..
   Volume I, Issue I
   Volume I, Issue II
   Volume II, Issue I
   Volume II, Issue II
   Volume III, Issue I
   Volume III, Issue II
   Volume IV, Issue I
   Volume IV, Issue II
   Volume V, Issue I
   Volume V, Issue II
   Volume VI, Issue I
   Volume VI, Issue II
   Volume VII, Issue I
   Volume VII, Issue II
   Volume VIII, Issue I
   Volume VIII, Issue II
   Volume IX, Issue I
   Volume IX, Issue II
   Volume X, Issue I
   Volume X, Issue II


Sorry Sir We're Gonna Have To Ask You To Leave
David Welper


Before you know it
I'm sitting at a coffeeshop in America
with a generic-brand bleach wipe to soak blood from my nose.

I'd take my kids out for one last go 'round on the swing set
if I had kids.
Teach them more about weaknesses & failures than
hopes & aspiration
cuz the former informs the latter.

We don't want
or need your kind around here.  Poets that is.

Mistakes are born to bleed.



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