New Brunswick, By Way of Oakland City Center Bart

27 February 2013.

She said:

Gentlemen, excuse me, gentlemen. Gentlemen. You’re such nice looking gentlemen. Gentlemen. I don’t mean to bother. All I have to give you [rustle of a plastic bag] is this flashlight. Gentlemen. I’m a pastor. I’m Pastor Patricia Smith. This is a high crime area. I was just beat down the other day. I’m the victim of sexual abuse. I broke these two teeth. I need: to get them fixed. Gentlemen I’m not a bum, I’m a pastor. Pastor Patricia Smith here. There was a murder up on Broadway. I’m the only witness. My mother. My mother: I’m just trying to get back to where my mother is. To New Brunswick, New Jersey, where my mother lives. I’m trying to get to New Brunswick, New Jersey, gentlemen. Gentlemen. Thank you, gentlemen. You can have this flashlight. Oh, you’re such nice gentlemen.

by Adam Morris

Adam Morris is a writer and translator in San Francisco.

To the Panhandlers of Northern Virginia

Today I thought I saw an ex-love

driving an old Mercedes

with stinking exhaust.

He had a beard

and drove slowly

as if he had no where to go,

as if he wasn’t the younger man

I held captive

in my memory.


Years ago,

right there in the dark—

we became birds

standing on a wire of resistance.

He was a flight risk.

I had a nest.


Ex-loves are panhandlers

of the heart.

They beg for remembrance—

loose change in a cup,

memories clink and spill.

Who can survive on this change?


At the intersection of Washington Boulevard

and North Roosevelt Street stands a man

with a sign that reads:

Bet You Can’t Hit Me

With A Quarter.

I pass him every Monday morning.

I’ve yet to throw a quarter his way.

Sometimes he smokes

and it’s so cold

I worry his hands are too numb

to pick up that quarter—

thrown hot from some hand.


by Sarah Lilius

Sarah currently lives in Arlington, VA with her husband and two sons. She is a poet and an assistant editor for ELJ Publications. Some of her publication credits include the Denver Quarterly, Court Green, BlazeVOX, Bluestem, and The Lake. She is also the author of the chapbook What Becomes Within (ELJ Publications 2014).

Simon Perchik


Here, there, the way silence

tows you below the waterline

and though you are alone


you’re not sure where her name

is floating on the surface

or what’s left


grasped by a single wave

that never makes it to shore

splashes as if this pen


is rowing you across the stillness

the dead are born with

–you are already bathing, half


from memory, half by leaping

from the water for flowers

growing everywhere –for you


this page, unclaimed :a knife

dripping with seawater

and your throat.


by Simon Perchik

Simon Perchik is an attorney whose poems have appeared in Partisan Review, The Nation, Osiris, The Nation, The New Yorker, and elsewhere. His most recent collection is Almost Rain, published by River Otter Press (2013). For more information, free e-books and his essay titled “Magic, Illusion and Other Realities” please visit his website at

Listed at Duotrope
Listed with Poets & Writers
CLMP Member
List with Art Deadline
Follow us on MagCloud