Into the Land of Nod Genesis 2:1 Thus the heavens and the earth were finished,                         and all the host of them Her...

SNOWSCAPE Flakes gathered  on a stone, on a leaf, on the arm of a lawn chair left out. A coating of snow, I suppose I could say. Yet ...

birthday toads children laugh singing sapo verde to you, some  green jumped-up  gringo from the top rope hit with a steel chair when the...

my body [01100010 01101111 01100100 01111001] is only 2 states of being a 1 or 0 follow my line of symmetry & it becomes [01100010...

Hallowed Be Thy Shape After the Lord’s Prayer   My body, which art on earth, Hallowed be thy shape; Thy touch come; Thy body be loved In...

Make me a bookmark. You can leave me  folded in, forgotten, because one woman’s trash is  another woman’s bookmark. And I will spread ...

rebirth of eve Grow your own ribs this time. Your heart isn’t meant to be caged by anything but your own bones. When your being is borne...

I am particles. Mist. Smack. Ice flakes. Grit. Ash. Floating fur. Loose and moving you can put your hands  Through me Snag on hard places...

crashed into the foreign door of a person i’ve met and i don’t know at all watched your hand around a mug and counted times you kept it...

Time Time loops like scalloped embroidery; rises, billows, then rejoins its stem – like on the head of a blooming flower, each petal is...

Time is a white but yellowing thing. I’ve got an ibuprofen bottle packed with psilocybin And a mind packed to the brim with thoughts I...

I Waited For An Ice Age I was told it would come; as I closed my book amid strawberry vapours ready to leave two came at once yes to be...

Leopard print Grease My small cat daughter, Simone Leather Sugar My large cat son, Lugosi The Tom of Finland men who live in my sinew and...

eternity beacons   a motorcycle cracks the crowd finds silence   the dark lamp sears white through dark days, bright nights   whispering...

Mark Twain on growing old: Beats not. James B. Nicola is a returning contributor to RF.   The latest three of his eight full-length...

Sonnet for a Real Slag One day, she’s gonna be obese, that slag. Salt and vinegar McCoy’s for breakfast — pulls at your bedsheets like...

Found I Unmoored by  spectacles, my  features float like  boats adrift in  the vast ocean  of my face. From  land—claims  that shadow...

Shadow Boxers Here again, that strange time of day           when certain shadows of the past  meet less-than-certain shadows  of the...

I feel your fingers work my hair like a jar of butterflies. You’re laying sideways on my pillow and you worry I won’t feel you. Just your...

Tried and true fashions never seem to be in not on catwalks or clothed mannequins a juice cleanse and diet pill racket spamming your...