Issue #27.7 A Triple Issue: Joshua C. Pipkins, Terri McCord, and Bart Edelman
A Poem by Joshua C. Pipkins
Talking Wounds
how do i address the talking wounds? the gash on my inner thigh. the open sores beneath my hair. the bones bulging from my feet. i whisper to their ears. they have tongues. they say that where there is silence there is silence and where there is obedience there is silence and where there is a king there is silence always because kings don’t like to hear talk back. they know this because they each complain to me, and i never listen. when i run they say to stop stop stop. when i eat they say to throw it back up. when i pray they say to stop stop stop. when i sleep they say i’m not doing enough. in the shower’s constant pattering patter patter there is a rage. i tell the rage that i’m sorry. i’m sorry for doing anything but what i’m told. i’m sorry that i will do more anything until there is nothing left to be done. then i might listen. when there is nothing left to be done.
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Joshua C. Pipkins is a pushcart nominated poet based in Memphis, Tennessee.
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A Poem by Terri McCord
Snow Moons
“The moonlight’s so terrible,” Emily in Our Town
This is winter in name only beyond a season or seasoned as almost everything seems to be itself in name only having evolved to something more and, as of yet, unnamed.
The shadow colors the dog a phthalo blue against dark gray walls, and the police car light strobes the street and the neighbor’s yard and my arm near the window.
I look but am taken this warm month with the Snow Moon, also called Bear Moon, Bald Eagle Moon, Goose Moon, that seems to sway slightly from side to side hypnotic I can
almost hear close your eyes. Listen to my voice. I imagine the ghost of you to be that huge and beg to be touched. You had a trick, or a gift, of beginning to laugh and your eyes almost could roll completely backwards in your head, your eyes like two sand dollars, your eyes like two moons. I am listening.
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Terri McCord is a visual artist as well as a poet. She has work forthcoming in The Westchester Review, Chiron Review, and Gargoyle. Her poems have received Pushcart nominations as well as Best of the Net (including 2025). She loves imagery and responding to the natural world and all of its connections. She likes encouraging communication skills and she loves playing with language.
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A Poem Bart Edelman
Anyone’s Guess
Tether your feet to the ground; At least it’s a start. Bend a bit at the knees— Careful not to hurt your back. Take in the surroundings You haven’t observed lately. Breathe at measured intervals, Until you get the hang of it. Briefly close your eyes, Just to see what fate May have in store for you. Sing a song of sixpence, Even if your rhymes are rusty, And there’s not a blackbird Within five-hundred yards— Let alone a queen to pout. Believe in the goodness of pie. Not to do so is foolish, Rather wicked, purely unwise. Where you go from here, though, Remains anyone’s guess.
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Bart Edelman’s poetry collections include Crossing the Hackensack (Prometheus Press), Under Damaris’ Dress (Lightning Publications), The Alphabet of Love (Red Hen Press), The Gentle Man (Red Hen Press), The Last Mojito (Red Hen Press), The Geographer’s Wife (Red Hen Press), Whistling to Trick the Wind (Meadowlark Press), and This Body Is Never at Rest: New and Selected Poems 1993 – 2023 (Meadowlark Press). Most recently, he has taught in the MFA program at Antioch University, Los Angeles. His work has been anthologized in textbooks published by City Lights Books, Longman, McGraw-Hill, Prentice Hall, the University of Iowa Press, Wadsworth, and others.
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