Days we had Cognitive Behavioral Therapy, drank coffee, talked fights and women, played frisbee. At night we stole chowhall cookies and woke up screaming in our beds. Photo by RDNE Stock project on Pexels.com About the Poet: Miles Varana’s work has appeared in Typehouse, The Penn Review, and Passages North. He has worked previously as a staff reader... Continue Reading →

You have gone with a promise So august; a promise to come back, Then you are traceless. Since then, I became a tree Standing still; waiting for you In the melancholic winds. Whom will I tell? Huh! My mind became a wild goose Diving head first into the clouds. Cascading the darkness of stars In... Continue Reading →

What comes after I do? Now that I found my other half, was life before just half a life or was it the introduction to a novel yet unwritten? Walking down the aisle, with his hand over mine, covering the ring that binds us eternal, his warmth becomes ours. And I'm ready for whatever is... Continue Reading →

a hard nut split inside me where the spirit is sick bad replicating thoughts a bad birth mud and shit rivulets black gut pouring out the tongue struck mouth of a broken spigot bad human bad girl bad poet rotten root, veiny canals septic and so willful— Say it! You’re ugly, you’re fat, so dumb.... Continue Reading →

(after Byron) Eternal echo of the restless mind! I arrived, not a prisoner as such, But one more known of basics than of much In sensual terms, and there was I to find, Within the chilly confines of those stones, A force, a scent, that called me to obey And seemed to hold before me... Continue Reading →

While people were getting blown to bits I guarded Bridge Ramp’s dust, I guarded the long, quiet Shell Road, 101 Doc Lap an employment center across the street from a white cathedral; 20 Duy Tan a Naval Intelligence office, stone house set back in trees; and the White Elephant, our headquarters. At the Admiral’s Quarters,... Continue Reading →

When I try to trap in flimsy words the love for my wife, I die in the words... When I read of the relentless cruelty we call history, I die in the words... When I try to understand, to SEE myself, you, others, I die in the words... When I reach out to God with... Continue Reading →

Gone into hiding like rainwater soaked into the land or run off elsewhere in its cycle, our cycle Monday passes at our convenience what it does without us is hard to see since we’d have to not be there to see it as some say we always are/aren’t What we can see if we’re patient... Continue Reading →

I left California in its season of death. 9 of the last 10 years were drought years, and the week I left a windstorm pulled down hundreds of trees in my town. Where I am now, there is water enough for every tree and deer and person and crow, and there is no difference I... Continue Reading →

I stand up, everything falls down, the load and the balance on a soft bed of nothingness to catch and embrace in a cruel dream of freedom. I draw my breath in the rising wave, knowing the calm waters are too lonely for sustenance. This has butchered my means of survival, drowning my body in... Continue Reading →