Amelia Kester has one poem at ~ isacoustic* ~
it is beyond me how a neighbor’s dog breaks all four of its legs. once, in looking at the smallness of my life, I dismantled my son’s dollhouse and told my daughters of the storm that didn’t wake them. I still learn in the church of the death I was taught by. I have my health and the healed their amnesia. do you see this fucking dog? and now for my previous trick.
and, beheld, she imprisoned the god
seen by those it changed
Agnieszka Mauch has two poems at ~ isacoustic* ~
in the blue church of my father’s thirst
I wear it
(hunger)
like an eye-patch, and emerge
starless
from the uncooked blood
of my shadow
CALL for submissions {isacoustic*}
~submission email: isacousticsubmissions@gmail.com
~~poems, poetry, prose, poetics…three to seven pieces…three must be chosen for publication on site…editors will allow flexibility here based on work length…simultaneous and previously published works are okay…pays 15.00 total for acceptance
~~~submissions can be doc, docx, pdf or in body of email
~~~~if interested in being interviewed, or having a chapbook or book reviewed, send inquiry to same submission email
{ site: https://isacoustic.wordpress.com/ . facebook page: https://www.facebook.com/Isacoustic-192435501303710/ }
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CONTRIBUTORS:
Leanne Drapeau
the body broken,
poured out. – {from} love has all its teeth intact
/
Adam Hughes
Tonight the fugitive gods limp
away, – {from} Kemper Street Hymns
//
Jon Cone
and the heart-ache
that occupies the land is yours alone in hope. – {from} YOU ARE NOT LATE, IT IS ONLY THE PRELUDE THAT PLAYS
////
REVIEWS:
Many Full Hands Applauding Inelegantly – poems – Darren C Demaree
abuse has no before,
no after.
small windows for unfeeling birds.
I saw nothing fantastic.
an angel
freezing to death
in a somersault. a mirror
coming out of its skin. emptiness
the size of a pea
no pea
empty
everything but the barn is red. the barn is the shape of red. one can jump from its roof and never land. deafness, my proven ladder, puts her mouth into words.
she wash
in horse
her father’s
hands
/ of a grief misplaced by loss
if it’s missing
from your life
know
I’ve eaten
kingsoftrain 