King of Ruins : Erin Jamieson
sculpt castles
from rubble
crowning kings
by men who
blot out names
to raise theirs
but
prismatic light
always seeps
into sepia
rooms
ink stains
splatter
on rich
men’s
parchment
this century’s
empire-
next centuries’
ruin.
Erin Jamieson’s writing has been published in over eighty literary magazines, including two Pushcart Prize nominations. She is the author of four poetry chapbooks, including Fairytales (Bottle Cap Press. Her debut novel (Sky of Ashes, Land of Dreams) was published by Type Eighteen Books.
As If There Were No Other Way : Jeffrey Zable
No, I’ve never been in the navy but I have thought
I was going crazy. More when I was younger than now,
but even so, there are times when I can picture myself
sitting in an all-white room looking out onto an alley
in which someone who very much resembles me keeps
motioning to add one more domino, but without ever
doing so, the whole shebang just crashes to the ground,
and looking at the pile I reflect on all the times I’ve tried
and failed, always dusting myself off and trying once again
as if there were no other way. . .
Jeffrey Zable is a teacher, accomplished conga drummer/percussionist who plays for dance classes and rumbas around the San Francisco Bay Area, and a writer of poetry, flash-fiction, and non-fiction. He’s published five chapbooks and his writing has appeared in hundreds of literary magazines and anthologies, more recently in Uppagus, The Paradox, Bitter Melon, Verbal Art, Hot Pot, Beach Chair, Rundelania, Little Leaf and many others. His selected poetry (from Androgyne Books) should be out soon.
Whimsy : Linette Rabsatt
why can’t I just dance
hopping through the streets
in wild motions
making everyone turn their heads
smirking at my whimsy
youthful heart in an old body
Linette Rabsatt is a Virgin Islands poet who began writing in 1996. Her work is available in her Kindle book, “Be Inspired: Poems by Linette Rabsatt,” on her blog, Words of Ribbon, and in various journals and magazines.
The Imperial Typewriters Factory, Leicester : Francesco Sani
Absent time of residential buildings Plastic hours
Walking across the city: Traffic signs Pulsing
Garbage Endless concrete Witnessing sporadic weeds
Mauld stains on walls saturated by life Explain
These shaking knees loveless wind on my face.
I have come as an unexpected mourner
There can be no mourning for a factory.
Erosion hit you in modernisation and constant
Upkeep. There is still half of the name
Imperial still the same red bricks Still
Rooms swallowing people on long hours
Shifts in industries of humiliation
I walk all around you
And hidden windows are remnants
Of sweatshops, not memories but crab shells
Left behind for new homes of Cheap
Fashion of cheap cannibalism of early
-Morning alarms renouncing sunshine.
I have not come here for my past.
I have no past here.
No Uganda No India No Britain.
I have come here for my present.
I am here with you You you are flesh
No bricks No concrete. Right now
Timeless darkness Dump air Sweatshops
Hidden pressure of financial survival.
I know your work, I know your want
You will know these streets are
Yours only on a picket line.
Fran Sani is a writer, researcher, and trade unionist based in Leicester, UK. His creative work focuses on the development of performance projects based on labour rights advocacy and antiracism.
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