Sleep if budding 

boy or girl ye b; O, sleep! 

see, for all that's behind there's so 

much more you've yet to be; in time so dread-

fully much you'll need Believe; still to bee stung endlessly 

for all your EternaT’s by O-so-many B’s of Becoming. so! sleep now 

Though sleep won't save U from the sting… 

          and          Be Where of Dreams 

                Y e 

                    Beautyful Thing

 

 

---

Hunter Simpson is a NY based composer who recently took up poetry in the wake of a close family member’s stroke & subsequent coma. First collection forthcoming. https://www.instagram.com/hsimpsounds/

    PEEPEEPOOPOO

 

E  E			O
E	E		P
P	P		O
E	E	uwu	O
E	E		P
P	P		E
O	O		E
O	Uwu     O		P
P		P	E
O		OO	E

    OOPOOPEEPEEP

---

Lmao

he lit a cigarette
in the elevator
which is just a metaphor
for the shock, a rupture
in etiquette, the sudden
dumbfoundedness by the rest of us
caught staring at a social contract,
broken, or maybe at ourselves
realizing for the first time
we abided by something together all along,
silently, until the striking of a match.

---

writer & thinker living in Amherst, Massachusetts

On her way back from picking daisies and weeping milkweeds, a swarm of wasps made their way inside of her, a low hum echoing against the cavernous stretch of her guts. She feared one might escape into the tunnel of her throat and onto her wet tongue. If she were to stretch back her lips, the air around her would fill with the angry buzzing of wasps filling in, looking for daylight while men in rusting cars crawl beside her and ask for a smile. She follows the road home and never shows teeth.

---

Patricia is a writer and illustrator from Orlando, Fl.

---

Yaghma (she/her) is a graduate student and researcher based in Edmonton, Canada. She dabbles in capturing trees and clouds when she’s not writing her dissertation. Twitter: @iamyaghma

---

Kadence Warner is a poet from Southeastern Idaho studying English and Creative Writing. Previous works of his can be found in Vandalism No.7 and Nymphs. https://twitter.com/kw_writing_

two tattooed constellations,
shining under collar bones.
mines aries and his taurus.

the far from perfect stars,
blacked out ink on the skin.
lines bended under pressure
symbols deformed, re-shaped by time.

with all our imperfections they are perfect
mirroring ourselves, by plain accident
his fingers brushing under the fabrics
wouldn’t change that moment for anything.

single minutes passing by,
the music already stopped, but we stayed
frozen in the frame
shining under the sky, full of constellations.

---

socials twitter: @ashkowalskaa

Ilys,
Has sleep not yet found you?
A faltering shade in the night.
Resplendent still you visit,
Gifting pieces of yourself,
Taking nothing
But the vision each sees inside.

---

Luke Hannon is an aspiring author and poet from Ireland. He enjoys genre fiction and writing about the themes of mental health, nature, love, and loss. Find him on Twitter @lukehannonpoet

blue hole of heaven
before the clouds close in
mountains pummelled by late-season snow squalls
winds fierce, to blow you off the road
in the ditch, four-way flashers
blink a cautionary tale

April 5, 2022

---

Janis La Couvée (she/her) is a poet with a love of green spaces.Her work has been featured by Island Writer, Paddler Press, Human Obscura. @lacouvee Facebook: JanisLaCouveeOnline

janislacouvee.com

She creeps under your door to wake you
with the calming sounds of small birds and the smell of sweet lilies.

She greets your heavy eyelids with a warm baby-blue sky,
clouds scattered every foot.

As you step outside onto the dewy grass and spring welcomes you
with her loving arms, you begin to forget the sharp cold that came before
and you secom to her warmth.

---

Elsa Fuglei is a middle schooler who lives in Colorado; she likes art, animals, and music.

I turned around to steal a glimpse only to catch you mid-wince.
You left us and I should have foreseen
For you, what a blessed relief it has all been.
Broken light now shines through your disguise, I can’t seem to shake off your haunting eyes.
Were you rebel?
Were you angel?
As if in answer, a rainbow bird takes off, shot on wings,
Landing on an upper branch, she opens her heart and sings.

---

Michael Etrue is an aspiring poet from Ghana. Find him on Twitter at @Etrue_Michael.

---

@ArtOfHephaestus on twitter and insta