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Wendy Taylor Carlisle | Addiction poems

Getting to the Fifth The woman who was not going to talk about her past, spoke to the woman who did not judge. That good, sad woman, the hard one, whose past was scars and fires, disfiguring, smoldering. The woman who figured speaking must be better than the old silence, the days with their vomit and combat, what that women says now, reveals ache and shock. Then, the woman who […]

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Hope Atlas | Longing for a Mom

I hold her frail, bony hand; stroke her stringy, blonde hair. She whispers, pleads, Don’t leave me. Closing my eyes as tears form, I can see the powerful, addictive white powder that brought us here. I feel her tremors, her anger. My ten-year-old body lies next to her, crying without noise, waiting for her to sleep. Now her bed— cradling her body bumping against the metal rail— has no room […]

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Bonnie Stanard | The Payoff

Pleasure’s on the phone and Rosetta has putty fingers and a memory of soaring, was it last Friday? usually afternoons, absolute anytime. Too horizontal to make the call herself she puts her ear to the sound of Benny plunging along Saturday streets telling her to rise to the physical, try on filters, look through gravity glasses touch the riff in the backbone taste the trigger that forks the tongue. Feelings […]

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Jim George | Lars the Cereal Killer

He deedn’t even stomp to brash his teath. He deedn’t even reed the moaning news. He woodn’t even pawse to calm his hair. He woodn’t even tight his seddle shoes. Rite from his bed to his beakfirst bowl, Fueled to the broom with those Lacky Charms. He cudn’t gut enough of that cereal; An umpty box mad him uppity in arms. “Wad’s not to like?” Lars asked humself, “Mushmellows maxed […]

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