miscarriage in train car #4 – lauren napier


The salt of embryo and ocean
The grounding of the shoreline and rubber tread
Here is where true nature is seen
Here is where fleshly goodbyes are said

Parallel lines in a hotel room
A parallel universe unfolding within a surreal frame
Enfolded in two familiar arms
Embracing again for the first time
Renewal – the act of letting go


Inspired by all forms of energy and art, lauren.napier takes comfort in the written word and in creative performance. She lives within a lush realm of bittersweet melodies and phrases alongside her black feline, her guitar, and typewriter. Wherever lauren might be, her work may be found online at punkrockdoll.com or followed upon instagram.

Photo: Jonathan Pielmayer

two of pentacles – robert beveridge

two of pentacles

The table sits in the corner. It
is brown. The fixture over
the table holds four lights. One
is burnt out. One is missing.
The other two are low watt
bulbs. The walls on two sides
of the table are beige. Chairs,
mismatched, face the table
on the other two sides.

The table is empty save a single
sheet of paper. It bends upwards
at the edges as if it had been
folded into thirds, placed
in an envelope. If there was
an envelope, it is not there.
It has been moved from the table.

A thread dangles from between
the two expansion leaves. It is
attached to the body of a spider.
The spider catches every draft,
drifts in the wind on the end
of the silk. The spider cannot
read, does not know what
the paper says. The Russian
Blue who lives in the house
jumps up, bats at the paper,
knocks it from the table.


November 2018 marked Robert Beveridge’s thirtieth anniversary as a publishing poet. When not writing, he makes noise (xterminal.bandcamp.com) in Akron, OH. Recent/upcoming appearances in Pink Litter, Triadæ, and Welter, among others. 

NEVERS – angelo colavita


never as cold as alone
never as grievance as cowering
never as erstwhile as while away
never as milk as apology
never as pointed as silent
never as sentient as salient
never as cause as roundabout
never as hiccup as dying
never as frogs-hop as toad-croak
never as ordinary as chemical burn
never as prescribed as diaries
never as ocean as beginning
never as lost as ocean
never as poem as breathing
never as cost as cat’s pajamas
never as love as never
never as sometimes
never as nevermind
never as fact as daydream
never as bird as poem
never as whole as posturing
never as skinny minnie as loosie-goosie
never as punk as monks and monkeys
never as goth as a grandmother
never as metal as hedge nettle
never as entropy as dystrophy
never as end as cluster
never stars


Angelo Colavita is a nihilist and experimental poet living in Philadelphia, where he serves as Founding Editor of Empty Set Press and Associate Editor at Occulum Journal. He is the author of two chapbooks, Flowersonnets (2018) and Heroines (2017), with work forthcoming or appearing in Pigeon Anthology 2, Dream Pop Journal, Prolit Magazine, Breadcrumbs, Luna Luna Magazine, Yes Poetry, Be About It Zine, and elsewhere online and in print. Follow him on Twitter @angeloremipsum and on Instagram @angelocolavita   

Photo: Samuel Zeller

mask and a flame – lee frankel-goldwater

mask n flame

I don’t know who I am,
I don’t know who you are,
I don’t know what we’re doing
… or why,
“So leave!” you say,
“If you’d rather not stay … ”
“But how?” I reply, (I do not know)
“I do not know from where I’ve come …
How can I know where to go?”
“It matters not to me.” (It matters not to me)
You say, a silence forms among the trees.

Inside my pocket lies a ring,
On top a scrap, beneath a crumb
I wear the ring, I open the scrap,
I nibble the sugary crumb.
It says, “only for you, only for you,
In haste to the 13th bower!”
Late, so late, I rushed, I came
I found on the bower a mirror
Lying beside a mask and flame
Covered in a dusting of snow
Mask and a flame, they lie beside
Covered in a dusting of snow
I pick them up, I know! I know!
“My penance is paid, I’m through!”

From then on, I went on, went on
wherever I wanted to.

ghost january

Lee FG is a poet, PhD student and traveler who throws fits of freestyle and prose like it matters. Travel writing is a favorite, calling on momentary evocations, the impressions of love and place, our differences, our quirky similarities. Prefers the mountains and tress, oceans and breeze to the urban hostilities. Find him around Boulder writing on the walls and always willing a share a tea and a smile.

Photo: Nathan Anderson

eyes full of soul – ghost #117

Philipp Pilz
The messenger of the human race
pulses t\through your face
when you speak your soul.’
So vast, so here so whole.
A bountiful, boundless
sad eyed soul
with light to give;
as a sea needs a light house
to guide in ships coming in
from the distance.
So vast,so here, so whole.
Prometheus fire with hope
for unfailing desire.
/Here is the paint and the wings of
Mercury blew in a Venus moon.
So vast, so here, so soon; so whole.
ghost january

11:58 pm, our lady of the broken cup – joshua espitia

our lady

Church lets in around midnight
Sunday heading into Monday
to the bells of clanging dishes
and music too loud coming from
open kitchens where high dropouts
laugh, yell, and sling runny eggs
for masses of people dying for
an opiate to soothe minds lingering
on things lost and opportunities
missed while they sit in red vinyl
booths lighted by window sign
promises that they’re welcome,
24/7, for the best food in town,
the flickering pink neon casting
cold halos around heads bowed
over black coffee praying that this
time they’ll get that job or win on
that scratch off ticket, or maybe
tonight he won’t be filthy drunk
looking for love or blood or both,
or she’ll walk through the front
door and sit down with him and
everything will be like it used to

They leave their offerings in wads
of ones folded around loose change
for white-shirted, chain-smoking
angels to carry home for the laundry

SBGS December

Joshua Espitia is a former managing editor of The Windward Review literary journal. He has received Texas Intercollegiate Press Association and Haas writing awards for his short fiction and has twice been a panelist at the People’s Poetry Festival. Currently he lives in Corpus Christi, Texas, where he writes bad comedy for the The Vent Daily and pays the bills as an ESL teacher.

Photo: Chris Liverani

winter horoscopes – brice maiurro

1 horoscope



Your love life is in shambles this winter, Sagittarius. Having lost sight of the importance of your relationship, things will be a bit rocky but don’t fret. For ten thousand dollars, you can franchise a Taco Bell, and then immediately burn it down in a beautiful post-capitalistic display of your undying love for your nearest and dearest. Your lover, enamored by your passion and rationality, will come running back into your arms and peace will be restored in your romantic zones.



We just really are starting to worry about you, Capricorn. The 100-piece puzzle was cool and the 1000-piece puzzle was a good challenge but now you’ve locked yourself in Toys-R-Us for the last sixty-three hours and have been shouting that you are the Banana King of the Taj Mahal and that you demand at least thirty percent more bananas. There’s more to life than bananas and puzzles, Capricorn. Please try and remember that.



This winter, you will decide to travel to a warmer climate and book a trip to Australia. Unfortunately, Aquarius, your plane will fly right over the Bermuda Triangle and come crashing down, leaving you on a mystical island with bubblegum trees and locals that have oversized hands and terrible breath. Mistaking you for Glenn Close, the locals will worship you as a god and offer you truffles and a nice bed. You will graciously accept their offers but these good times can’t last forever, Aquarius. When the real Glenn Close arrives on the island, they will see you for the fraud you are and imprison you in a dungeon where your only form of entertainment and exercise will be a DVD of Power 90, and let me tell you from experience, Aquarius, Tony Horton is super charming at first, but he gets old pretty quickly.

pisces symbol


I’m sorry to say, Pisces, you’re gonna get stuck in an elevator this winter.

That’s it. Just a long winter stuck inside an elevator. Sorry.

aries symbol


It is important to not be too vague, Aries. There are situations you will encounter where there are decisions to be made and you may need to make decisions, or not make decisions. Just remember, Aries. What is most important is that you look at things and say to yourself “why?” and “why not?” Remember what your teachers used to tell you. If things get confusing, you can always find refuge in those places where you best find refuge. You know what I mean.



Be very aware of time this winter, Taurus. Specifically, Morris Day and the Time. Jungle Love may sound enticing at first, but it has some pretty vicious side effects. You will fall in love with a woman named Apollonia this fall and she will treat you like a Prince, but despite how beautiful things are at first, try to take it easy on the echoing vocals, or she may cast a wicked spell to turn you into a symbol.



This winter is a time of adventure for you, Gemini. After being told you do a good Forrest Gump impression at a party, you will assemble a Gumpesque ensemble and buy a shrimp boat and head out into the great beyond with your cat Russell who you’ve renamed Bubba and you will see the world, by which I mean you will be arrested for not having your mariner’s license, but fear not, Gemini. You will make it safely to shore before the cops catch you and then you’d better run. Run, Forrest, run.



This winter you will discover your hidden talent for business, Cancer, upon realizing that you can do quite well in the corporate world by saying “let’s table this discussion” at every opportunity to do so. Over the course of three months, you climb the ranks at your corporate job from lowly peon to CEO, simply through the magic of those four words “let’s table this discussion”. Your TEDtalk is the most viewed TEDtalk of all time and Oprah brings back her talk show just to interview you. Of course, it’s time for your Tom Cruise couch moment, and everyone knows it’s impossible to come back from a Tom Cruise couch moment.



Your confidence is your strength, Leo, so have confidence in everything you do. When you wake up in the morning, say “I am confidently waking up!” When you brush your teeth, proclaim “I am confidently brushing my teeth!” When you are stuck in traffic on the way to your job at the car wash, let the people know “I am confidently stuck in traffic!” When your boss writes you up for being high on the job at the car wash, look him dead in his eyes and say “Doug, I am confidently signing this write up!” and when you get home to eat your Totino’s party pizza and watch Alf in your mom’s basement, do that with confidence too. Alf would want that for you, Leo.



Your Achiles’ heel has always been your anxiety, Virgo, but if you can face your fears, then there is nothing that could possibly stop you. I know that we live in a post-capitalist society where it’s dog-eat-dog and almost the entirety of human experience has been swept up into a veil of fraudulence, but look at the bright side, Virgo. If you work hard, then you can be rich and miserable for a whole different set of reasons. There’s no reason to focus on this strange digital urban landscape we’ve created where humanity is a plastic straw that runs down the sewers to pollute the ocean in a never-ending cycle of destruction. Just remember, your life may be ending one minute at a time, but time is a human construct, it’s death that you really have to look out for.



The world is your oyster, Libra. One sunny day, a man in a pink poncho and uggs will arrive on your doorstep and tell you that you’ve been selected in their random drawing and you’ve won a prize! Ten thousand dollars, either in the form of a giant check or direct deposited to your bank account. Literally all you have to do, Libra, is decide what form you want your ten thousand dollars in. You’ll sit for a minute weighing the benefits of both; you have always wanted one of those giant checks, but direct deposit would be so convenient. You make a pros and cons list while the man in the poncho waits patiently for you to decide. Time continues on. It’s Spring now and you’re certain you’ve almost decided how you want your ten thousand dollars presented to you. The poncho man grows week, having slept now on your porch for months, only feeding on what little flora and fauna he’s been able to gather from your front patio. You sleep on it and keep thinking. You’d hate to make the wrong decision. The poncho man grows weary and in time becomes just a skeleton in ugg boots on your front porch and then dust in the wind. A giant check would be nice, but when will you have time to go to the bank?



This winter may be an emotional time for you, Scorpio, by which I mean you’re a little bit too sensitive this season, by which I mean you cried when your Hot Pockets © finished cooking in the microwave and proceeded to stitch yourself a Hot Pocket © – themed onesie and watch Youtube videos of Hot Pocket © commercials in chronological order, insistent on singing that little jingle every time. Take it easy this winter, Scorpio.

Image result for aquemini


It’s smooth smooth sailing for you, Aquemini, because cool cats like you never ever jump off the funky bus. Just keep your head high, your soul fly and tell the haters see you later, gator. You’re the King of Cool and fresh to death from your blue silk suit to your peppermint breath. Ain’t nobody dope as you, you’re cooler than the polar bear’s toe nails, oh hell yes.

Alright alright alright alright alright.

SBGS December

Brice Maiurro is the Editor-In-Chief of South Broadway Ghost Society. You can find him on Instagram at @maiurro.

Photo: Josh Rangel

three poems – ahja fox


babe on a mission

I swallow matchsticks to prevent dumpster fires,
but they just keep on sparking
into next year.
Ma says the moon hides its face.
Men hide their skeletons.
How was I to know a strawman had a viper tongue?
I threw a glass jar full of pennies at his ex, told her
count your blessings ‘cause I’m too pretty to break your bitchface.
I keep my nails done. Glitter on my lashes.
I might rattle a few prison chains.
So what? I’m carving my name
into a New York, New York park bench.
Those jesus girls keep saying Christ loves us all,
and he does. That’s why I bring packs
of cigarettes to spiritual battles.
I know what they really want. Me on a shelf.
That can be arranged.
I have a poetry book coming out next Tuesday.



canine teeth uprooted and worn on a choker

mom wonders why you can’t wear glitter like
the other girls


Little girl promises to never speak
mommy’s name, cough up

crest colored plastic, yank
the heart out with it onto asphalt

to thaw and slip
around legs of next little girl

whose mommy bow tie
knots her hair on dinner plates

after 5 o’ clock. Sharp is the pencil
mommy puts in her hair

when she wants to see light
tease her black panties, limbs drawn

by hysterical laughter. She turns
her skin in red tipped hands, strums

her ribs Orphic Hymns, pinching
sheets of flesh around fingernails.

She has it bad, this condition:
her head drops to her feet,

her feet snap at the ankles, run
under little girl’s bed,

into little girl’s closet,
wherever little girl can wedge

talks with God
between floorboards.

SBGS December

Ahja Fox is a poet obsessed with bodies/ body parts (specifically the throat). She can be found around Denver reading at various events and open mics or co-hosting at Art of Storytelling. She publishes in online and print journals likeFive:2:One, Driftwood Press, Rhythm & Bones Press, Rigorous, Moonchild Magazine, Anti-Heroine Chic, SWWIM , and more. She has also recently been included in the 2018 Punch Drunk Anthology and YANYR Anthology. A Best of the Net and Pushcart nominee, follow her on Instagram or Twitter at aefoxx.

Photo: Yaoqi LAI