Street Light Press
Street Light Press is looking for poetry that moves us. We don’t care for elaborate use of language–give us your real, your raw, and your intimate. The work that you write and hideaway because it feels too fragile to share with the rest of the world, that’s what we want.
38
Trying to Earn the Years
By Fabrice Poussin
It has been one decade past a score since
she crawled on the synthetic neon fibers burning
those frail bones in a thin satin envelope.
The room yet echoes of the giggles of the silly
girl who would some peaceful dawn awaken
in the arms of destiny shared with another.
She watched those teens creep upon the shoulder
blades cut deep into the lovely games when
suddenly they said she was ready for life.
Laughing she passed through the gate driving
off to a setting star so flattering of gentle hues
glowing through the white silk dress of twenty.
It has been a moment since she has forgotten
numbers written on a doll’s house hidden
behind the door that held the embraces of a parent.
Embraces have passed, come and gone with
a zephyr leaving behind dunes smooth as if
never a soul should again trace a line in the sand.
In the attic a sled, a doll, jumping rope and training
clothes remind her that she simply forgot to
listen to those who know best, and still she plays.
She is the magician, the witch gifted of a youth
fountain flowing eternally to feed the torrents into
the deep of oceans where she will bathe nude as infants do.
June 15, 2020
our next nominee should remember
By Michael Chang
ne-VAD-da
always moisturize
hand sanitizer is your friend
and clorox, for when you get to the oval office
check what city you’re in
never wrestle with pigs. you both get dirty and the pig likes it.
look out for numero uno
avoid kitchens
lose the friends from back home
fail often
the opposite of armor is curiosity
if you do the team of rivals thing, go all in
leave the gun, take the cannoli
if you do not ask, you will not receive
squeaky wheel gets the grease
two women on the ticket is a good thing
whatever you do in life, do it well
no one else can create the art you can
if someone says “would you rather i lie,” say yes
stop living other people’s dreams
don’t go to law school
play your opponent’s cards instead of your own
you come into this world alone and leave it the same way
time heals all
trust but verify
some things stick
when someone shows you who they are, believe them the first time
the real applicants never fill out an application
kill your darlings
i really don't care, do u?
Fabrice Poussin teaches French and English at Shorter University. Author of novels and poetry, his work has appeared in Kestrel, Symposium, The Chimes, and many other magazines. His photography has been published in The Front Porch Review, the San Pedro River Review as well as other publications.
Train Hopping
By Marilyn Humbert
A founding member of the Pine Row editorial board, MICHAEL CHANG (they/them) is the proud recipient of a Brooklyn Poets fellowship. They were invited to attend the Juniper Summer Writing Institute at UMass Amherst, the Kenyon Review Writers Workshop at Kenyon College, as well as the Omnidawn Poetry Writing Conference at Saint Mary's College of California. Their writing has been published or is forthcoming in Yellow Medicine Review, The Santa Clara Review, The Summerset Review, The Broadkill Review, Heavy Feather Review, UCityReview, Chiron Review, Thirty West, Map Literary, Armstrong Literary, Love's Executive Order, Straylight, Juked, Radar, Poet Lore, and many others.
Marilyn Humbert lives in the Northern suburbs of Sydney NSW Australia. Her tanka and haiku appear in international and Australian journals, anthologies and online. Her free verse poems have been awarded prizes in competitions and some have been published.
​
punch-drunk
on the last train
popping pills
step off
at the next stop
switch my cap to the back
leap the gap
touch-down … spread-eagle
on the guard’s window
on the butt carriage
vanishing
down
a black-hole
tunnel-lights flashing
shadows warping
blasting
through glimmer
fingers grappling
a thin sill
volts zing down the wire
humming in ears
wheels clanking across points
brakes jerk jerk
I’m
fall
ing
patron saint of lost bagels
By Michael Chang
for evan
(#86 most popular boy’s name)
you know who you are
i stiffen :: is it wrong that : thomas rhett gave me light crabs : charlie puth made that choking noise : nick jonas said to cover my face : is it right that
you are my :: war with loneliness : 30-day trial : rubber duckie in alligator-infested waters : undeserving love : made in china : love 1994 : per-my-last-email : cat’s paw : beast of burden : little nap : long bath : second favorite : pure love idiot : brainwashed little prince : daily forbidden fruit : not-necessarily : winner-takes-all : better-than-you : eureka moment : hand of god : lucky draw : moonless night : moonlit pool : ghost ship : heavenly kingdom : weather of love : right as rain : hot 100 : lightning in a bottle : so close : so far : so what : faulty parachute : search for black box : sea to shining sea : kennedy curse : kennedy hair : whiteboy : branches of government : united states of : shit sandwich : past life : worth-waiting-for : chat a little, dance a little : charity lover : 10 seconds later : honeymoon suite : boyfriend in prada : blacked out : red white blue : buzz lightyear : no. 0 : beef with broccoli : wild child : cheap love song : genius children 1985 : private tutor : spellcheck’s worst nightmare : unhappy hour : 10 years later : lost love museum : love in the wrong universe : paris hilton : queen of jordan : tamil tiger : honeyed sun : black rainbow : dumpster fire : hungry hungry hippo : wonton : cheat day : question mark : dictionary and bible : red carpet ready : ugly gurls b quiet : chillin with no makeup on : whereabouts unknown : every thursday : that-should-be- me : pumpkin carriage : pumpkin spice : september : june and december : watergate : still got it : cobwebs : crickets : human search engine : human decoder ring : japanese robot : one-eyed jack : loose sleeve of wizard : intern like alexander skarsgård : intern with huge dick : call me maybe : this time next week : goodbye : wawa cherry icee : some personal news : peach emoji : peach emoji : peach emoji
please pardon our appearance
By Michael Chang
leonie hill
up
up
up
whiteboy in athletic shorts smoking in the gazebo guero
eyes like ivy hair like maple more leg than a bucket of chicken
ninja turtles lunchbox pb&j half-eaten apple
drives in stanley park old money shaughnessy canadian flags flapping
sheepskin rug homemade zhajiangmian
novi high school, novi, mich.
varsity jacket heavy sleeves of calf smells like you she asks where it is
she is not for you i am for you okay
last gasp of summer red cardinals blue jays in my backyard
your head on my chest my heart beating for you
this is our song you say like a threat
you join debate club for me our fingers interlace
stairwell senior prom she sees she cries we keep going
you tell your friends you love chinese food a little joke i guess you still taste good
lazy afternoons in the kitchen no longer an island
the dumplings aren’t successful but the meatballs are
i meet the juices running down your throat adam’s apple like hard seed
i trace your dimples with my finger
my dreamboat my kurt cobain my love astronaut
because america needs someone to believe in
me ??? unsheathed like a dagger third eye
glowing like three mile island
remembering you in my bunny slippers
A founding member of the Pine Row editorial board, MICHAEL CHANG (they/them) is the proud recipient of a Brooklyn Poets fellowship. They were invited to attend the Juniper Summer Writing Institute at UMass Amherst, the Kenyon Review Writers Workshop at Kenyon College, as well as the Omnidawn Poetry Writing Conference at Saint Mary's College of California. Their writing has been published or is forthcoming in Yellow Medicine Review, The Santa Clara Review, The Summerset Review, The Broadkill Review, Heavy Feather Review, UCityReview, Chiron Review, Thirty West, Map Literary, Armstrong Literary, Love's Executive Order, Straylight, Juked, Radar, Poet Lore, and many others.
By Andrew Shields
The Drinkers
after Celan, for John Felstiner on his 70th birthday
in memory of an evening reading "Die Winzer," in the spring of 1988
We poured the wine of his lines,
of what he had made of his weeping, we too,
willed by the night,
the night he leaned against, the wall,
attracted by the river,
the river on whose bridge his crutch led us into
the silence of answers—
his crutch still speaking to us
back then in spring and still,
when the year swells to birth, a full glass
that back then spoke to us right through muteness,
and still does, out of the mineshaft of musings.
We poured and pour, we drink up the wine,
our eyes are pressed by his eye,
we come out of the cellar of weeping
into an evening he made ready
with night-toughened hands:
so that our mouths can thirst for it, now—
our latemouths, perhaps like his own:
bending towards vision and healing—
mouths to which the draught from the depths foams upwards, meantime
the sun descends into waxen seas,
there and here, our candle eyes still glistening,
at last, when our lips have been moistened.
Andrew Shields lives in Basel, Switzerland. His collection of poems "Thomas Hardy Listens to Louis Armstrong" was published by Eyewear in 2015. His band Human Shields released the album "Somebody's Hometown" in 2015 and the EP "Défense de jouer" in 2016.
Twitter: @ShieldsAndrew
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