Dashboard Horus: A Bird's Eye View of the Universe

  Toti O’Brien is the Italian Accordionist with the Irish Last Name. Born in Rome, living in Los Angeles, she is an artist, musician and dancer. She is the author of Other Maidens (BlazeVOX, 2020), An Alphabet of Birds (Moonrise Press, 2020), In Her Terms (Cholla Needles Press, 2021), Pages of a Broken Diary (Psky’s Porch, 2022) and Alter Alter (Elyssar Press, 2022). Commute   Close your eyes, he said. She heard smashing of waves against rock, thumps of hoofs on pavement, intermittent slash of the whip and the coachman clearing his throat at regular intervals, a deep cavernous sound. Pulse, pulse, syncopation. Her own heart, hushed, subdued clandestine, incognito.   Close them tight, he said then he squeezed her hand. She saw flashes of bright  in the dark, phosphorescent like will o’ the wisps in a swamp. All you see he said, will be yours. Their hands nested like Russian dolls her fist wraps a negative shape, a kernel of void. © 2022 Toti O’Brien

Marc Olmsted has appeared in City Lights Journal, New Directions in Prose & Poetry, New York Quarterly , The Outlaw Bible of American Poetry and a variety of small presses. He is the author of five collections of poetry, including What Use Am I a Hungry Ghost? , which has an introduction by Allen Ginsberg.   Olmsted's 25 year relationship with Ginsberg is chronicled in his Beatdom Books memoir Don't Hesitate: Knowing Allen Ginsberg 1972-1997 - Letters and Recollections , available on Amazon. For more of his work, http://www.marcolmsted.com/ Could Be   Could be Tibet chased out by Mao Could be America scalped by the settlers Could be Cambodia lined up & shot Could be Selma - club cracking my skull Could be collateral damage - drone’s white silent flash  (now a wedding shoe with a stump) Could be Rwanda shot by a child Could be Dachau dreaming of bread Could be a kitten in Ukraine under rubble Could be an insect a tiny fish a baby rat Could be alive in th...

                                                                © 2022 marie c lecrivain Jeremy Cantor’s debut poetry collection, Wisteria From Seed , with a foreword by former Boston Globe arts critic Michael Manning, was published in 2015 by Kelsey Books. His work has been performed at the Boston Conservatory (set to music by composer Robert Gross) as well as in San Francisco and Tucson. Jeremy began writing after retiring from a career in laboratory chemistry. He has made and tested engine oil additives, detergents and pharmaceuticals, driven a forklift, worked in a full-body acid-proof hazmat suit, tried to keep his fingers working in a walk-in freezer at -40°F, and worked behind radiation shielding. He prefers writing.     Tamarind     I woke beneath the tree the Arabs call the Date of Ind...

  Kevin Patrick Sullivan’s books include, First Sight, The Space Between Things , Unimpaired and a number of chapbooks .  His poems are in Solo , Hummingbird , Askew , Lummox , Miramar , and Spillway among  other journals and anthologies. He Co-Founded and ran Corners of the Mouth at Linnaea’s Café, a monthly of featured and open readings for 35 years, Co-editor of Corners of the Mouth A Celebration of Thirty Years at the Annual San Luis Obispo Poetry Festival. Poet Laureate Emeritus of San Luis Obispo and the Co-founder/Curator of the Annual San Luis Obispo Poetry Festival since 1984. Camels Three legs Two humps One pyramid shaped And two flat heads What a wicked sense of humor One hump or two The sand man has You barely notice his red eyes Guiding you through this desert Of sleep this daydream Of travel                      *after the intaglio by Anne Jenkins   ...

  “I am a British Indian poet, musician and artist based in the UK and editor of Crowstep Journal . My poems have been commissioned by arts organisations as well as being published in print, broadcast on radio and reimagined by artists in various mediums. My first poetry collection, The Glass Puddle, was published by last year. The written and spoken word has emerged from song-writing and performing with the band Satsangi for 20 years. We have been broadcast on radio (BBC) and TV (MTV) featured in magazines such as Rolling Stone and have travelled internationally to share our music.” Honey Moon Sticky, orange and boiled beneath a hole in the Sweet Walla’s shack— shack-attack of asthma glacé, and the road outside wheezes home to the knell of cattle bells. This unstitched edge is where I left you and everything about your name now shy as a distant cousin with similar eyes but not the mouth, nose or gaze. How was I to know  about this undoing,  like a teaspoon of honey that...

Michal Mahgerefteh is a poet and artist from Israel, living in Virginia since 1986. She is the author of four poetry chapbooks, the managing editor of Poetica Magazine and Mizmor Anthology . In 2022, Michal is planning to release two chapbooks: FishMoon , and The Rising Song .       Destiny    We stop for a quick break at Mount Arbel’s overlook, the Sea of Galilee visible on the horizon; azure fresh- water lake where *Shuah stood by rocks and reeds.   “Here is where he created miracles,” Abba explains (another biblical character stimulating his imagination).   I stand with mouth tightly clinched. “You should thank him,” he continues with sheer admiration. “Shuah was the first rabbi to recognize women as equals.” He forgets our long talks about the mitzvah obligation of multiplying.   (* Shuah - Jesus)         Study   After * Shacharit prayer on top of Masada fortress, we drove in Abba’s battered Vespa scooter down the Ara...

  Lynne Bronstein is a veteran poet, fiction writer, and journalist. She has published five books, including Nasty Girls from Four Feathers Publishing. Her poetry and short fiction have appeared in everything from Playgirl to Chiron Review , from underground newspapers to National Public Radio. She writes the column Show Biz Cats, seen on Facebook. She wants to return to Paris because she didn’t see all the museums last time around. Crayon Hotel Cher Hôtel Crayon, Merci pour le bon moment que j'avais à votre hôtel. J'ai oublié de retourner l'une de mes clés et la carte est jointe. Like Belle of Beauty and the Beast I am in a house where everything lives! The elevator is a small box, Perfumed, And when it stops at my floor A female voice Says “ Premiere Etage .” In my room there is a drawing Scrawled on the wall above my bed, Someone crouching In what seems to be an erotic pose. For my bath I am greeted by Moroccan fig soap New Zealand kiwi shampoo Brazilian pitanga condi...