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Read more: Ocean Haiku
by Joshua St. Claire three laughing gullsbending the scent of saltwhitecaps fiddler crabssunning on a rockyaupon hollyfirewheela northern mockingbirdmarks timesanderlings tracing brushstrokes lettered olivea mackerel cloudbetween thempelican and seaa sand fox finds the loggerhead clutch wine-darkpalmsonggullbones rattlingin a galemalachitethese white wavesin a celadon sea Joshua St. Claire is an accountant from a small town in…
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Read more: Sheer Fluid Beauty
by Brian Builta And then the words come, likesigning your name over and overand over, like what diednot staying dead, like Lilyserving margaritas to cheerleadersslowly bloating, words like broken glass,father in a fire, dormant volcano,virgin that should’ve stayed hidden.A poem is such a slender spaceto place words, chiaroscuro, Playdough, donut and dance mom.Words like birds…
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Read more: St. George’s Market
by Brian Builta BelfastYou’ve got to earn the strong Cuban coffeeWith a sevenfold walk down the tow path,Water blooming as sweat-enhanced dogs pantJigs and reels to make mum proud. The wrapWith blood pudding and egg and vegetarian guts Is a crowd-pleaser among the thrum of women Under hats, hair curling to escape the oppressive dome…
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Read more: Modest Confetti
by Jannett Highfill Witches’ hats, black cats, and jack-o’-lanternbits of plastic in a cellophane bagfrom Celebrations, décor for a hagparty, litter under foot for the turn of the screw, Halloween is the secondmost important holiday for the stores and I like to do my part, buying morethan even my physical but fecundimagination requires. I’ll fuse…
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Read more: The Ink Monkey Waits with Folded Hands
by Jannett Highfill Eating fish tacos elbows on Borges’The Book of Imaginary Beingsillustrated by Peter Sis.Out the window two signswithin twenty feet: LockviewStreet and Lockview Drivebut no, no lock.The radio likes to say Teddy Roosevelthimself christened Grandview Drivewhich overlooks “Peoria Lake,”a wider reach between the bluffscut by the Illinois River.On the phone this taco joint…
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Read more: N.B. Letters to the World
by Jannett Highfill Summers fly, winters walk, Snoopy writes somewhere.Charlie Brown says Good Grief.Emily Dickinson ribbits like a Frog—to an admiring Bog.A windpuff-bonnet of fawn-froth turns and twindles over the broth of a pool so pitchblack, fell-frowning,it rounds and rounds Despair to drowning, Gerard Manley Hopkins says, wanting wildness.I’m greedy for loneliness, thundersnow, Woodstock, racoons…
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Little Leaf Literary Journal 