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The rain has come.I no longer know what exactly the color of Light has behind its transparency.I don’t remember the sound of the wind blowing in my sleep.There is a closed door somewhere that someone wants to open, but cannot.All the noises are mixed up together, someone is shouting,But it’sContinue Reading

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You say maybe we can’t be friends because you think I can’t express anger. You have a degree in psychology. Anger is important to you. But Anger is a tsunami— a greedy, gluttonous predator— an indifferent drowner of you and me. Anger is an insatiable carnivore, but since you’re anglingContinue Reading

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Outside,The sun has set,The atmosphere is freezingTo the surface for the night,While mining rovers trundleHome through frostedRegolith. Inside,The air ducts hum,Recycled water flows throughHydroponic gardens under lights.A systems check confirms thatAll is well insideThe airlock. Elsewhere,On Planet Earth,It’s said they walk on grass,Enjoying sunshine as their right. She sighs, andContinue Reading

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As your red hair wraps around my stilled heartYour love vein begins its rapid resuscitationI open my pitch black eyes to a gleaming silhouetteBlinding beam of passion transferred through your soul’s window Soft warm hand on my broad chestLost…oh so pleasantly lost in theeThe all encompassing fixation of usZeroed intoContinue Reading

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Carolyn Adams’ poetry and art have appeared in Steam Ticket, Cimarron Review, Evening Street Review, Dissident Voice, and Blueline Magazine, among others. Having authored four chapbooks, her full-length volume is forthcoming from Fernwood Press. She has been twice nominated for both Best of the Net and a Pushcart prize. SheContinue Reading

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A gorillazooed in a kindly habitatnot quite likeits mountained ownrecently cradled a fallenhuman infant, unused to heightsand jarred from its slipaway from mother’s arms.The gorilla, a mother herself, understood yowling when she heard it. She set the child before the keeper’s gate, assuming kindshould goimmaculate to kind,knowing the bandied creaturewouldContinue Reading

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the symphony of bugs buzzing around our brightbodies. the spray acrid as gasoline over our arms,legs, torsos, faces scrunched like zipper spokes. the wind hesitating before reaching to touchthe leaves, our hair sticky with sweat beinglifted briefly before settling again. a reflection telescope takes time to temperature adjust.nothing to doContinue Reading

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I’m here to fetch things that float up,Devoted to the murk of ocean, No hint whatever it isA few feet below, Where iridescence wavesBefore vanishing. I come to this dockEach morning And imagineA flounder, the wise seer, Gazing from his abyssThrough tricks of light At the stranger craning his neckInContinue Reading

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Mostly land and wind here.Barns, silos, woodframe housesfloat on a sea of plowed fields.It’s the last of winter,not quite spring. A storm’s blown in tonight,gusts slashing the house, crashingthe dead aspen onto the dairy shed roof.Thunder rattles the loose sashin the kitchen window.Lightning rips tears in the black sky-plain above.OutContinue Reading

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Inspired by “The Cape.” In the wind of the beach, I climbed into the gorilla.  Its skin hung down like an immense human cape.                –Ben Crowley The Ape  My father always knocked on my door. ‘Perchance, the ape is in?’ He opened my door and helped me into theContinue Reading