Does a curling happen after death,
A wrapping around of the universe?
Or does the roach, knowing it no longer needs
To protect its soft underside,
Offer its belly up to the sky?
Or is this how the soul escapes,
Like plague dead in a fresco,
Pulled through the mouth, pale, limp and wet?
A cockroach walks on the bottomside of clouds.
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Issue 72
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Editor's Note
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POETRY
- D.M. Aderibigbe
- Sebastian Agudelo
- Bruce Bond
- Fleda Brown
- Nick Conrad
- Ellen Devlin
- Fay Ann Dillof
- Peter Grandbois
- Danielle Hanson
- Mark Heinlein
- Karen Paul Holmes
- David M. Katz
- Laura McCullough
- Michael Montlack
- Aaron J. Poller
- Mike Riello
- Eric Paul Shaffer
- Kenneth Sherman
- Phillip Sterling
- Laura Van Prooyen
- Jeremy Voigt
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FICTION