“Stillness” – “Swallow” – “Split”

Copyright 2015, Harley Altaville

 by Rachel Nix




Would it be worthwhile to

hinge on the words of

a man who waits not on

my replies, but merely for

a break in my syllables, to

break me with his stare and

turn my thoughts into

something of a simple stutter?


I think not, but he is most

recusant in allowing me the

benediction of where my

lips take the proceedings of

this hushed moment.

I have been quieted, but

stillness has yet to

find his hands.



I forget my reasons

for staying, saying

instead it’s what’s right–

wrong, again.

Again, I swallow it all:

the anger, the regret.

But it won’t stay down,

as I do. It rises,

likes the hot air you speak,

corrodes the ceiling,

takes my breath, leaves

me gasping, choking

on what you could not


The indignant,

after all, have no room

for their own mistakes.




I draw fault lines in your quake, shaking

at the symmetry in which we are divided;

you are not the world I once woke to,

and I am no more the earth

you dug into with callused hands

that craved our growth.

There is only air between us, dense

as it is, obscuring our views, waiting for

onlookers to see the mess we’ve made.


©Copyright 2015, Rachel Nix
"Split" first appeared in Issue 23, Up the Staircase Quarterly (December, 2013)
"Swallow" first appeared in Melancholy Hyperbole (February 8, 2014)

RACHEL NIX - [Read Full Bio] is a native of Northwest Alabama. She likes coffee in the morning and bourbon at night but rarely knows what time it is, otherwise. Her work has most recently appeared in Words Dance, Melancholy Hyperbole, and Bop Dead City...

[Featured]Art / Photography Image Credit: What I Can’t Wrap My Head Around by Harley Altaville. ©Copyright 2015, Harley Altaville


Snapping Twig – Summer – 2015

Vol: May 2015 thru Jul 2015


One Day He Up And Left: Two Girls Remember Grandpa

Copyright 2015, J.A. Spahr-Summers

by Trish Saunders


Before anyone could call him a bastard again,

tell him to buy a comb, put on a shirt,

quit trifling with his Model-T,

insulting the parish choir—

one day he up and quit.

The kitchen door sagged a little lower.

First, he tipped his flask for a good slug.

His spine straightened, hands

stopped trembling. He felt taller.
Pebbles shrank under his boots.
He heard crickets, even a mockingbird–

he thought they’d vanished from Louisiana.

He remembered songs and whistled them.

On he went, disturbing the dust,

leaving a stack of records behind,

the words lost to us.


Grandfather, we’re looking for reconciliation.
You left our father and uncle and grandma to
starve in a wooden house, a door that could

not quite defeat Depression dust, swelter, wind.

We wonder if you looked back?


In the one picture still untorn, you lean against our

frail Grandma like she was a pack mule, you an

explorer. Her back is bent, you are grinning.


Your body turned up eventually, who cares where.

Let the grasses keep you.

grandmama lies in her

Lafayette Cemetery tomb.
And she is satisfied.  


©Copyright 2015, Trish Saunders

TRISH SAUNDERS - [Read Full Bio] lives in Honolulu, Hawaii where she enjoys spying on rare birds. She has poems published or forthcoming in: Silver Birch Press, Here/There Poetry, Gnarled Oak, Poets and Poetry...

[Featured]Digital Art  Image Credit: dying is beautiful by J.A. Spahr-Summers. ©Copyright 2015, Jeffrey A. Spahr-Summers.


Snapping Twig – Summer – 2015

Vol: May 2015 thru Jul 2015

Eunoia (remix) ft. Christian Bök

Copyright, J.A. Spahr-Summers

by H.G. Heath


A drab washman, half-clad at a washstand, can wash afghans and caftans, as databanks at NASDAQ graph hard data and chart a NASDAQ crash— Hassan can watch cancan gals cha-cha-cha, as crass bands blat jazzmatazz (what a class act). Vaward attacks blast apart hangars and tarmacs: blam, blam.

Retchers retch; belchers belch. Jesters express extreme glee. The stench repels; nevertheless, the sleek green eels feed themselves the excrement (the expelled feces, the excreted dregs); the severed members, strewn helter-skelter, redden the cerements.

Westerners revere the Greek legends.


©Copyright 2015, Hunter G. Heath

H.G. HEATH - [Read Full Bio] is a remix poet from Pennsylvania, USA. His work involves a practice that appropriates fragments from a poetry collection and then "remixes" the fragments together. Heath has a collection of remix poetry called, "m o p e: a remix of Frank O'Hara,"...

[Featured]Digital Art Image Credit: it is not the mountain we conquer but ourselves by J.A. Spahr-Summers. ©Copyright 2015, Jeffrey A. Spahr-Summers.


Snapping Twig – Summer – 2015

Vol: May 2015 thru Jul 2015


Copyright 2015, J.A. Spahr-Summers

by Arielle Lipset


You do not tend, tend

To air thinned and pressed,

Featureless dreams, flat merciless

Streets tangle like threads.


Meet me where blood unhinges

From flesh, inch by inch

I am silently led

To your phantom city in Poland.


Where a tank flattened your dog

And Russians set out from a fog

Thick and dull as storm clouds.


©Copyright 2015, Arielle Lipset

ARIELLE LIPSET - [Read Full Bio] graduated this past May, 2015 from Franklin & Marshall College with a BA in creative writing -- specializing in poetry. Her work has been published most recently in, Third Point Press, and she is a recent recipient of the 2015 Academy of American Poets...

[Featured]Digital Art Image Credit: start me up by J.A. Spahr-Summers. ©Copyright 2015, Jeffrey A. Spahr-Summers.


Snapping Twig – Summer – 2015

Vol: May 2015 thru Jul 2015

How to Eat a Persimmon in Three Steps

Copyright 2015, J.A. Spahr-Summers

by Coral Lee


Two things:

Remove the calyx, angled slightly to the left.
This is the skeleton dance.
(do not disturb
the protector of breath and
cloudless flesh)

Halve halves.

The knife, so suddenly.
The flesh, forgiving.

         Thick, dimpled skin:
you have come undone.


©Copyright 2015, Coral Lee

CORAL LEE - [Read Full Bio] is currently studying English at Kenyon College in Gambier, OH. Her poems have been published in various online and print journals including: scissors and spackle, Neat Mag, Hika...

[Featured]Digital Art Image Credit: so may the sunrise bring hope where it once was forgotten by J.A. Spahr-Summers. ©Copyright 2015, Jeffrey A. Spahr-Summers.



Snapping Twig – Summer – 2015

Vol: May 2015 thru Jul 2015

Why do I write poetry?

Copyright 2015, Belinda Subraman

by Debasis Mukhopadhyay


What is the link that propels me back into the poetry like stuff?
I think about the waves of heavy clouds borne aloft on an ocean of darkness

at the same time, about

a woman’s body in situations that tend to look as prose as they really are.
I think about the train of words that imagine & then play about with a poem

at the same time, about

a charcoal flower without any fire buried deep inside.
I think about the parameters of listlessness and,

at the same time, about

the silver river called “perhaps it ends always like this”.
What is it that makes me think about a rapt closing note and, at the same
time, about Tamir Rice-trompe l’oeil?


©Copyright 2015, Debasis Mukhopadhyay

DEBASIS MUKHOPADHYAY - [Read Full Bio] grew up in Calcutta, India and now lives in Montreal, Canada. He has a PhD in literary studies from Université Laval. He writes poetry in both Bengali and English. His debut collection of poetry in Bengali was published in 2005...

[Featured]Digital Art Image Credit: Fantasy by Belinda Subraman. ©Copyright 2015, Belinda Subraman.


Snapping Twig – Summer – 2015

Vol: May 2015 thru Jul 2015


Copyright 2015, J.A. Spahr-Summers

by Carl Scharwath


Indigo searching

for stars on

new moon nights.

Give a renaissance,

an enlightenment,

of the iridescent sky.

Transfigured and alone

time to transform

in a different light.


©Copyright 2015, Carl Scharwath

CARL SCHARWATH - [Read Full Bio] work has appeared internationally with over eighty publications selecting his poetry, short stories, essays or art / photography. He won the National Poetry Contest Award on behalf of Writers One Flight Up.

[Featured]Digital Art Image Credit: you air that serves with breath to speak by J.A. Spahr-Summers. ©Copyright 2015, Jeffrey A. Spahr-Summers.


Snapping Twig – Summer – 2015

Vol: May 2015 thru Jul 2015