Fishing for Magic —

What an exquisite piece. Click the link below to read.

By Lorraine Caputo Up & down the river boardwalk along this swollen river people dip lines into the quick current A man fights to bring his back in, long, expensive rod bending — only to emerge debris A large raft of waterlilies swiftly drifts downstream & that woman, thick-armed, thick-bellied, thick feet shod in flip-flops, […]

via Fishing for Magic —

Don’t Say I Did Nothing For You by Meeah Williams — BURNING HOUSE PRESS

This poem is absolute fiiiiiiiirrreeeeee!!!! Click the link below to see it!

Because I stood up & threw half-hearted punches at unimpressed bullies for you I got beat down & climbed back up spitting blood & seeing stars for you I struck out, dropped routine fly balls & ran to first base like a girl for you I looked at your skin mags & confused tried to […]

via Don’t Say I Did Nothing For You by Meeah Williams — BURNING HOUSE PRESS

Exile, intensive care by Christina Tudor-Sideri — BURNING HOUSE PRESS

Click the link to read. Beautiful work!

I am not from here. I am from somewhere in between push and pull. I am a thrust not yet experienced by what people usually call ‘home’. I am exiled. I am exile. I reside not in my consciousness, but in the lingering smell of last night’s cigarettes and rain drops. In the burning of […]

via Exile, intensive care by Christina Tudor-Sideri — BURNING HOUSE PRESS

Three poems by Wanda Deglane — BURNING HOUSE PRESS

What a brutal batch of poems. I loved them. “…scream endlessly into their ears in one long, feral sound. because closure isn’t real, but screaming is.” Click the link below for more stunning lines like these!

August August is second-degree burns / from hands grazing against metal / it is waking from sweat-dripping nightmares / and no more room for intimacy / August is a silent scarring / a tension you can taste / stinking rotten in the air / it is a dozen new bruises / peppering my limbs every […]

via Three poems by Wanda Deglane — BURNING HOUSE PRESS

Berceuses by Petero Kalulé — BURNING HOUSE PRESS

Click below to see all 3 poems. I’m a fan 🙂

Dementia come to mind cloud come to cloud mind – Marie Ponsot & every now & then, i sit by her feet, on her porch never ever talking. & together, we watch the soughing heavens mutter, str- etching their cotton-silvers in lulls & retorts of nearly went & nearly wait – […]

via Berceuses by Petero Kalulé — BURNING HOUSE PRESS

lips by Eve Black — BURNING HOUSE PRESS

I am shook. Read this poem! Click the link below.

when the blood came the nowhere voice said paint your lips red this was under the table in the blank space between sweetheart and cunt I obeyed as I always do the nowhere voice

via lips by Eve Black — BURNING HOUSE PRESS