Two more poems on tongues

Seems that all I do is advertise the journal! Swing on over to check it out. And when I get some ideas beyond it I’ll jot them down.

This week’s offerings:

“Passing” by Sonia Farmer

The doctor knows the heart and all
its chambered petals. He is versed in
vestigial organs, but not the art of hidden

Things.

“(untitled)” by Sheila Brooke

cedar floats liquid down my throat
in extract of red, pooled in cliffside fissures
opened by roots
whose hunger cracks stone

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