At the truck-stop on Halloween by Justin Hyde After taking a piss I walk outside to stretch my calves on the curb. Lady who tends the buffet is sitting at a circular stone table having a cigarette. I sit down across from her. Old as my grandmother, but she’s painted her face like a cat. [...]

four poems by Justin Hyde  on your way to buy black velvet   texas stop at Douglas Ave former president carter on npr refuting that condoleezza asked him not to meet with hamas.   rubber neck the semi jackknife on Lower Beaver coffee like hornet spray past your lips.   thirty years old: no checking [...]

Three Poems by Justin Hyde unbeknownst to me until recent unexplained insight following an unplanned physical altercation i’ve always been an emotional guy. it’s only after an upbringing in the taciturn shadows of two beaten dogs who deserve some level of commendation for doing a better job than their own parents, only after that and [...]