Archimedean by Carson Pytell and Zebulon Huset

Splatters of paint on the canvas
halfway between Mandelbrot
and Rorschach—depending on

whichever way it is tipped. To make
Kandinsky cry, just show it to him
at different angles and it’ll be new,

it will be another nightmare
cusping on the fantasy-life
of leisure and sunsets and art

or coming home to find your maid has
knocked your devotion over, careless
of which of its ups was up. You cried

“Eureka!” for the change of perspective
(or at least used that as an excuse
to run soaking and naked in the streets).

Carson Pytell is a writer living outside Albany, New York, whose work appears in such venues as The Adirondack Review, Sheila-Na-Gig, Fourth River, and The Heartland Review. He serves as Assistant Poetry Editor of Coastal Shelf, and his most recent chapbooks are Tomorrow Everyday, Yesterday Too (Anxiety Press, 2022), and A Little Smaller Than the Final Quark (Bullshit Lit, 2022)

Zebulon Huset is a teacher, writer and photographer. His writing has appeared in Best New Poets, Meridian, Rattle, The Southern Review, Fence, Texas Review and Atlanta Review among others. He also publishes the writing prompt blog Notebooking Daily, and edits the literary journal Coastal Shelf.

The Night of Love by Alshaad Kara

Drinking a privilege of love from the witch,
She knowingly knows more truth than I do,
As life had hid all my future… 

Leaving a letter of blood around the bed table…
She confesses to have taken me as her husband in the demon’s land…
This will be my reimbursement for her return… 

Presently, she is waiting for me downstairs,
A ring starched on her fingers…
A reign stiffened on my fingers…
This will be my reimbursement for her upturn… 

Yet that freezes me out to the deepest coconut,

As she opens the magic portal leading to my heart.

Alshaad Kara is a Mauritian poet who writes from his heart. His latest poems were published in one Magazine, “parABnormal Magazine September 2022” and three anthologies, “Les gardeurs de Rêves”, “Love Letters to Poe, Volume 2: Houses of Usher” and “20.35 Africa: An Anthology of Contemporary Poetry Vol. V”.

Fluorescent Angels by Jennifer Klein

Pacing around the hospital room
Celebrating my life beginning anew
While mere feet away many Loved will shortly ascend
Seeing their last glows of fluorescent lights before The End
I know most associate them with stale coffee
But I always felt they shone down quite heavenly
Sparkling and igniting inner luminosity
I hope the Loved are spellbound by that sight
And when they go to the Light
The angels will tell them
They were always winking down at them
Through part of humankind’s own desire to be bright

Jennifer Klein is a writer, musician, and artist who has been writing since childhood. Poetry is one of her favorite ways to make social commentary and merge her inner and outer worlds. Her poems have been featured or are forthcoming in Fahmidan Journal, āraśi, and Pages Literary Journal. She received a bachelor’s degree in English with minors in Dutch Studies and Norwegian from Indiana University Bloomington. You can follow her on Instagram @JenniferKleinReal

2 Poems by Jeff Taylor


the letters on the screen
are inhabited by people

who want to kill you

they are flourescent bulbs
trapped in the walls of a maze
shaped to spell freedom

after being fed six pills 
every three hours 
for nine weeks 

the letter people

ate through the walls
and hurled themselves  

into the space between the text


their true goal 

is to direct

but the pharmaceutical regimen
freedom put them on 


left them susceptible

to believing


they must be standing 

in a pool of your blood

to make a dollar


they think love has a shape

a color

a required equipment list


a representative is asking you to lie on the couch

a profile has been created for you 


you will be prompted

to select a legacy administrator


press spacebar to continue

I’m Not, But I Am

I’m not 
to be President

but I’m 
my library.

I’m not 
the founder
of a social 

but I’m 
a hoodie.

I wasn’t 
born with
a Silver Spoon 
in my mouth

but I talk 
sitcom philosophies.

I’m not 
a spy

but I’m chain 

I didn’t go 
to flight school

but I’m a 

I didn’t 
find God

but I married 
my best friend.

I’m not 
a cult 

but my 
love me.

I didn’t 
consider myself
an alcoholic

but I 
minor holiday.

I didn’t 
create change

but I’m 
to podcasts.

I’m not 
the Heavyweight

but I beat 

I didn’t make 
the All-American Team

but I know how to 
play the game.

I’d make 
a terrible waiter
but I’ll bring you 
what you 
ask for.

Host of The Garage Poets Open Mic, Jeff Taylor has been writing, publishing and performing poetry for over 20 years, he has recently had poems publshed in Ethel Zine and the anthology American Graveyard (Read or Green Books). Jeff lives in Massachussets with his family where he performs with the poetry/music collective Garage Poets.