Martin Pedersen – OLD MAN NEW YEAR

Old Man New Year I’m cooking on my campstove on one of my two folding chairs next to my packed car behind the Food 4 Less gonna make me some bacon and eggs, that’s right, heat some instant coffee too, and have a good old time after a decent front seat night’s sleep, fireworks notwithstanding; […]

BRUCE GUNTHER – AFTER PAZ

After Paz Words sifted througha pail of pebbles.My mind overrunby thoughts unleashed.Day and night splitby a seam throughwhich dusk travels.I write letters tofaded memories,to resentmentsand their knives.Words as scatteredas the voices ofmany songbirds.One page isn’t enoughbut two are too many.Words. Voices.Memories hid in darkcorners, behind bookshelves.Wait for them untilthey pull you betweenpast and present.

GRANDPA’S MOOSE – JAMES LIMON

GRANDPA’S MOOSE the wind ripples the water in ways that make it resemble the mountains that surround it.the peak’s shadows overhang the low valleys we fish in.across the lake, green shrubbery hides the lurking moose, moving silently til he nears our ears.we are in his land, his home.we are merely invaders to the beast, invaders […]

The 10 Commandments of the 2022 Teen Creative Writing Club of South Central New Mexico

The 10 Commandmentsof the 2022 Teen Creative Writing Clubof South Central New Mexico 1 anything can be poetry2 encourage others and be yourself3 things aren’t all black and white4 bad writing is better than no writing5 it’s not all about white men6 love your writing because it’s yours7 don’t forget this is a way out8 […]

INAUGURAL KAREN TRUJILLO POETRY CONTEST – CLASS OF 2022 – THE WINNERS!

THE LIES ARE BEFORE THE FOOTHILLBy Melaina L. Mittel3rd place I want to tell you all a thing hereA tragic thing that defines my characterSomething that awakens even in dusk’s dawnSomething that can make an ego out of itselfSomething that can bring you and the others downAt the crack of daybreakSomething that defines my unfortunate […]

A RARE AND DIFFERENT TUNE – A PRE ORDER OPPORTUNITY FOR OUR READERS

Forthcoming from Beatlick Press in September 2021 “In his stunning sophomore effort, The Pieces You Have Left, Tim Staley brings you to the woods and asks you to stay the night. In this moving and fast-paced collection, Staley touches on an array of subjects–space travel, love, fatherhood, masculinity, death, solitude, youth, and dementia–delving deeper than ever […]

3 POEMS FOR JUNETEENTH BY TIM STALEY

After Ahmaud Arbery 3.23.20 His arrival here cut one background from another. Five hands sprung from each of his wrists. I wipe the ashes off the armoire. I light a new stick of incense Morning Star Mellow Pine. He sits on my sofa deliberately. The muscle spasm in his leg ribbons the room. From the […]

POEMS FOR HER ~ A SEQUENCE BY CAITLYN COURT

This poetry sequence was written by a teenaged writer in Southern NM. We are thrilled to be the first journal to publish her work. the day that we first met. eleven years old, sitting in a science lab that seemed foreign. she was sitting to the left of me, a stranger in an even stranger […]

Vodka Omelet
 
Make it clear in my mind, Jesus,
am I whacked-out on Double Cross Vodka
or have I flipped out calling myself
Limburger omelet chef?
I hate question marks and angels
with crazed wings.
You know the type, John the Baptist
toking weed, stoned out of his mind, storyteller,
foul smells from poor hygiene, eating habits
open mouth, swallowing grasshoppers,
so silky, smooth as sweet honey.
Add 3 eggs in a skillet, Parmesan/Romano blend,
2 cheeses add-on, shiitake mushrooms, turmeric,
chopped kale, hint hot chili peppers, cheers.
Scramble me, I’m cracked.
I rock faith in jungle music, dance nude.
Everything is a potential poem to me.
My omelette, my life, my booze, master cook,
vodka
omelet
2:38 a.m.

DRUNK AND HELPLESS IN THE DARK
 
Some of us lie
Drunk and helpless in the dark
Waiting for the angel that never comes
Because there is no her
Beyond the sad spiraling reveries
Of the drunken insomniac
Smiling wanly in the glow
Of a halo
That exists only
In his
Fevered
Imagination




HUMANITY IS DOOMED
 
I heard the birds that chirp at night
And I saw the cats under the tree.
I know the cats need to eat
And I know the birds want to live.
 
So here I am
In the parking lot of a Walgreens,
Rooting for nothing.

Cacti Fur

a poetry high ground

realnm