SURVIVOR’S GUILT

by Julie Weiss

“4-year-old migrant girl, other kids go to court in NYC with no lawyer: 'The cruelty is apparent.’” —Gothamist, April 22, 2025

We order mile-high hamburgers,

chicken fingers for the kids,

clink glasses as if the world

isn´t spiraling toward some terrible

demise. There aren´t enough colors

in the complimentary crayon box

to draw the dread prowling

my body, or the howls

of all the people being erased

so I praise my children´s

artwork as if their puppies

and bunnies could charm

the shit off the lips of fascists.

They drag fries through ketchup.

Every analogy on our plates

is a choking hazard. Somewhere

in a country that´s being stripped,

shaved, and tortured, a child

who once celebrated a birthday,

a victory, a graduation, an award

at a restaurant like this one

is being dragged into an unmarked

van. My daughter´s medal glistens

my grief back to me. I blame

the onions, a speck of dust,

yesterday´s pollen. I don´t say

your surnames could get you

arrested, if you lived in the US.

We laugh at the latest memes

as if the faces weren´t fireballs

waiting for the right moment

to mushroom. As if the biggest  

aggravation today is the rain.

Julie Weiss (she/her) is the author of The Places We Empty, her debut collection published by Kelsay books, and two chapbooks, The Jolt and Breath Ablaze: Twenty-One Love Poems in Homage to Adrienne Rich, Volumes I and II, published by Bottlecap Press. Her second collection Rooming with Elephants was published in February, 2025 by Kelsay Books. "Poem Written in the Eight Seconds I Lost Sight of My Children" was selected as a 2023 finalist for Best of the Net. She won Sheila-Na-Gig´s editor´s choice award for "Cumbre Vieja" and was a finalist for the 2022 Saguaro Prize. Recent work appears in Variant Lit, The Westchester Review, Up The Staircase Quarterly, and others. Originally from California, she lives with her wife and children in Spain. 

GOLDEN ARCHES

by Gil Hoy

A woman sleeping at a McDonald’s restaurant in Hong Kong in October. Across East Asia, 24-hour McDonald's have become a sanctuary for the downtrodden, providing a warm, dry place to sleep. Credit Lam Yik Fei for The New York Times, Dec. 31, 2015

After birthday candle whites
 are blown out,
Kids all snug tucked
 in their beds,

Once Invisible down-and-outs
 retire to a corporate
Cash-cow Behemoth

For a good night's restless sleep,
 To stay warm for a while.

No other shelters available,
 No families of their own to turn to,

“McRefugees" of East Asia,
   With no other place to go.

On a good night: Feed on
  half-eaten Big Macs,
Chew on salty stale fries,

Lie down in a padded
 booth for comfort,

'Til just before dawn,
  the dominion call comes:

“Put on your shoes,
this is not your home.”

 Then just enough time
  to comb your black hair,

With a disposable fork--
and vanish.


Gil Hoy is a Boston trial lawyer, writer and poet. He studied poetry at Boston University, while receiving a BA in Philosophy and Political Science. Gil received an MA in Government from Georgetown University and a JD from the University of Virginia School of Law. He served as a Brookline, Massachusetts Selectman for four terms. His poetry has appeared most recently in Third Wednesday, The Write Room, The Eclectic Muse, Clark Street Review and TheNewVerse.News.

MEMORIAL DAY HAIKU

by Jimmy Pappas

Image source: Aftertaste

Memorial Day.
Eating burgers and fries. How
quickly we forget.


Jimmy Pappas is currently finishing a collection of poetry and stories about his experiences in the Vietnam War. He is an active member of the Poetry Society of NH.