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Gertrude Stein Speaks by Mare Leonard

a dirty word a dirty

bird a time to speak

to sacrifice fantasize do not

disguise or pretend do not decline poison

poison alas a dirty bird a dirty third

a vulture vulture defecates spits from his mouth

ties neat excrements with string repeats repeats

it is a need, no evil is wide, it is time for sweet

relief a hole inside a pot leaking leaking leaking

any decline is poison a no nonsense & no sense sense

it is time to end the first call dares there will be time &

boom in “What we call the beginning is often the end.”

And to make an end is to make a beginning. The end is where

we start from boom it in it is a need it is a need it is butter is *

*excerpts from T.S. Eliot And Gertrude Stein

Continue reading “Gertrude Stein Speaks by Mare Leonard”

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Three Neighbours by Paul Brookes

1. I Fry Me Chips

in proper fresh Beef fat for better flavour, in a proper chip pan. Don’t let

old fat lie. Keep it new, not like neighbours, nowt against them,

not meaning to be offensive but veg don’t put hairs on your chest,

or give a bloke owt to hold onto on a night. There’s yon young un out

on a morning in her slippers and pyjamas hangs out her undies,

as if no ones looking. Him next door in his loose dressing gown lumps white

bags in grey bin, pussy cardboard boxes in blue. Like I said don’t let old fat lie.

Tha allus sees summat proper fresh out thee windows.

Continue reading “Three Neighbours by Paul Brookes”

AUGUST 2019 Guest Editor Is JAMES KNIGHT!!! Theme/s: VOICES

Burning House Press are excited to welcome JAMES KNIGHT as our AUGUST 2019 guest editor! As of today JAMES will take over editorship of Burning House Press online for the full month of AUGUST.

Submissions are open from today – 1st AUGUST and will remain open until 24TH AUGUST.

Continue reading “AUGUST 2019 Guest Editor Is JAMES KNIGHT!!! Theme/s: VOICES”

SECRETS & LIES EDITION JULY 2019 GUEST EDITED/CURATED BY ROBERT FREDE KENTER & ELISABETH HORAN

SECRETS & LIES EDITION JULY 2019 GUEST EDITED/CURATED BY ROBERT FREDE KENTER & ELISABETH HORAN

JULY 5TH

Autobiography of the Other – 7 translations of “Tub” from Don Mee Choi’s translation of Kim Hyesoon’s ‘Autobiography of Death’ by Gary Barwin

Continue reading “SECRETS & LIES EDITION JULY 2019 GUEST EDITED/CURATED BY ROBERT FREDE KENTER & ELISABETH HORAN”

Three — A Hybrid Project By Ankh Spice

Gullible eggs (reprise)

My mother lied with tenderness, sweet
aplomb, and range;
she’d seen a century, our crooked sea-swelled house
cost a million, and all babies were born with feathers
that softened the world’s edges

Continue reading “Three — A Hybrid Project By Ankh Spice”

Two Poems by Bryan Borland

Electricity

Continue reading “Two Poems by Bryan Borland”

Three Poems by Emma Bolden w/a Drawing by Guest Artist Cathy Daley

CONTINUOUS MEMORY

Continue reading “Three Poems by Emma Bolden w/a Drawing by Guest Artist Cathy Daley”

womannotated – laGuardia

July 26th, 2019

Each month I’ll include a diary style annotation in prose form below the poetry —the CNF behind the sonnet.  ❤ Kristin Garth

July 16th

LaGuardia

He is your pinstriped stalker at the gate,

miniskirted traveler who hesitates. Hides

to spy how suburban pale thighs vibrate.

Favorite flavor is you, terrified. Continue reading “womannotated – laGuardia”

Introducing ‘womannotated’ – a new monthly poetry column from Kristin Garth – every Friday – starting today

Conflation — A Poem by Jack Bedell

Conflation

1.

Yesterday at the riverfront, the water
            rose so high a man washed
his socks from the rubble placed along the bank
            to guard the walking path. His socks
were filthy from slogging through the Quarter
            during the morning’s flood. As hot
as it was, those socks must have felt
            divine on his feet, like a river of cool breeze
carrying him to his next shady spot. He did not
            rush the washing. He had no need
to leave any of the river behind.

Continue reading “Conflation — A Poem by Jack Bedell”

ajinde – A poem by Adedayo Agaru

Continue reading “ajinde – A poem by Adedayo Agaru”

Three Poems by Jill Jones

The Doll and Me

I hate the doll, its plumpy head,
its brunette swirls, its itsy cheeks,
its pout, its lashes, the uptight clothes,
marrowless arms, nerveless teeth,
its squeaking, the mess
it makes on the floor.
I want to detach the twee wee feet
and hammer it to the fence, drown it,
skewer it to the door, to say ‘this is what
has become of us’. Even naked
it makes me angry and afraid.

Continue reading “Three Poems by Jill Jones”

Traces — A poem by Justene Dion-Glowa

Traces

Continue reading “Traces — A poem by Justene Dion-Glowa”

Three Poems by Jaclyn Piudik

Mirages

A house is not a terrapin
                or a sailboat
                or a maelstrom

The sunstorm that swindles
at midweek
sycamore green embossed on the heart
like sequins or worlds

Continue reading “Three Poems by Jaclyn Piudik”

No (New) Man’s Land – A poem by Joseph Schreiber

No (New) Man’s Land

His is
a life in fluid drawn,
pushed through
scar tissue, muscle yielding.
Pull. Plunge.
Inject. Extract.
New man by
needle-born in flush
of mid-life puberty, 
bending forty
years of life.
Burying facts that
fail to fit.

Continue reading “No (New) Man’s Land – A poem by Joseph Schreiber”

Three Poems by Khashayar Mohammadi

Its All Greek to me

For B. D. M.

“The embrace of men”
I say
and you pirouette
behind the cash register
a new found bond at work

Continue reading “Three Poems by Khashayar Mohammadi”

Secrets – A Poem by Lisa Reily

secrets

an old woman’s face with a schoolgirl’s smile,

your words on the page

mean nothing;

Continue reading “Secrets – A Poem by Lisa Reily”

From “Poems of the Day” — Three Prose Poems by Miljana Cunta, w/ an image by Dušan Šarotar. Translated from Slovene by Rawley Grau.

Continue reading “From “Poems of the Day” — Three Prose Poems by Miljana Cunta, w/ an image by Dušan Šarotar. Translated from Slovene by Rawley Grau.”

Three Poems by Ava Hofmann

Continue reading “Three Poems by Ava Hofmann”

Three Poems by Alina Stefanescu

The Poem, Afraid

Some dog’s ghost
glares from the
attic window.

I know the door
to a nuclear plant
with his teeth

captioned above it:
Some mammal was
here
​and such.

When our youngest
walked in on us
last night,

I was coming.
She was scared
because she heard

someone crying.
I kiss the bruise
a bad dream leaves

in her head
& keep an eye
on the lonely ghost.

Continue reading “Three Poems by Alina Stefanescu”

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