the world grows uglier by Anthony Liccione some people find themselves stuck in mirrors, unable to escape the fabric of ugliness, screaming in vain that life is empty without them, false flowers pass as dream blossoms plucked and chucked into the gutters. these same had never smelled the opening of a rose, had no desire [...]

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Three Poems by Anthony Liccione close the blood doesn’t run, like it once did, from the open wrist and below my arm to elbow and into your full breast, it just runs slow and cold, like paint thick slapped against a barn as you held me with hot tears, you always came just in time [...]