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Who are these determined apes, who endurethe cries of cracked bones and vertigo,which precede the treetops?Treetops where these apes reach and graspand check their fingertips to see if maybethey’d grazed the halo.They don’t yet realize, yet still they reach—unapologetically— up toward the twinkle which precedes the dawn “Daniel J. Nickolas”Continue Reading

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We should fear the ocean. Something we know without being told. Enter extremity: A shifting massEasily knocking us to the sandWith such obviousUnrestrainablePower. I almost died in the ocean once But breath broke through The suffering void And aspiring skin Touched the shore again. Since that haunted eveningThe sea andContinue Reading

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Some people are unlikeablebefore they die.I am waiting for someto go ahead.Then I buy their book,read their poemsand like them.I guess I should say writers.But I don’t mean my friend in texasor that one pretty branchlike girl in new york.I don’t mean you—I mean the men and womenwhose books IContinue Reading

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a found poem, after Giannina Braschi Madmen fear no moon, fear no fire. Burns of flesh are poetry. Madmen’s wounds are poetry. Salt is for fish, salt is for death, the poem is not among the dead. Remember, but don’t write it. sleepwalker among cats, thief among dogs, man amongContinue Reading

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Only in that sunless realm between asleep and awakeWill I find you, the shell of my former self, crumpled andLifeless, huddled in the darkest corner, two tattered wingsSprouting from shriveled flesh, cracked and splinteredLike the decaying skin of a porcelain doll left forgotten. I watch as you gracefully unfurl thoseContinue 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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Ornate cloud of sharp angle-rife tube and clamp scaffoldBlurs domeLike a JPEG-formatted digital photograph,Heavy compression reducing the natural colour gradations and surface detailsTo illegible posterized scriptNot even the Catalan architect Gaudi could read;Vertical standards like ribs of a corset to bind up the sides of the Capitol Dome,Reinforced horizontallyBy rightContinue Reading

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It sat precisely balanced atop a high concrete curb along the roadside, this perfect loaf of sliced white bread. How astonishing is that? Such an improbable, yet ordinary, place for such a commonplace thing as a loaf of bread.  But this was no ordinary, run-of-the-mill white bread. It was thatContinue Reading

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My mother always tells me, you’ve got to pick your gods.She says this, leaning at a crow’s angle over a cup of coffee,a glass of wine, through the oiled steam of a stir fried dinner; from under the tumble of her quilted bedclothes,voice muffled behind a peeling murder mystery;shouted outContinue Reading

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I live two monthseach sleeping hour. A set of fires burnmy night house. I cover my eyes, slip slowinto coldwater. Carrion birds gatherat the vigilantedge of what I want whenI awaken. It’s never there, ever. I age at the searing speed of light. Carolyn Adams’ poetry and art have appearedContinue Reading