Category: 17.1

by Hannah Oberman-Breindel And all the trees are bleeding. Marigold topsdrip crimson at the bottom. Fall is repletewith endings. Leaving the church-sponsoredbillboards and the state-sponsoredseatbelt reminders of the highway, we driveinto town. We are visiting for a wedding.On the business loop: big box stores, barswith windows boarded-up, parking lotsand drive-thrus. Spires above the tree line.Saturday’s…

by Arielle Hebert I begin again,the ceremony of searchingfor arrest records any small wordcarried like a spideron the shouldersof a gulf windto tell me she’s alive. Ten yearsthis ritual has growna knotted vine my wild needto dig up roots. I’ve dug so deepdown here, it’s gravedirt. I’m alone withmy loyal dogsCanes Venaticiand we’re hungrywaiting for the scent and when we find…

by Hannah V. Warren when mother slaughters a hogknife on throat blood on hands her daughters watch & clapbellies full of meat & hot stones it should be no surprisewhen the oldest sister says little sister you be the hog& I’ll be the butcher knife on throat blood on handsmother finds the eldest daughter belly full of meat & hot…

by Leona Sevick If I told you I climbed into an old carwith an ex-con and a philandering drunk,neither of whom I’d met before,you’d shake your head long and slow. With an ex-con and a philandering drunk?You’d say you’re just asking for trouble,you’d shake your head long and slow.Did I tell you they were famous writers? You’d…

by Bailey Cohen ma got them especifically, she said, about thehojas para tamales, except your Spanish wasn’tvery good so you heard ojos & were terrified,nightmared eyes peering through small tearsin a pale yellow but nonetheless ate themlike you might to very pretty grapes                                                                                         they filled youwith an immense sadness, but you knew the worst thing you…

by Ashley M. Jones Two thousand three hundred miles away from home and I’m watching the tiny camera attached to the back of my parents’ house. Brother dragging the black trash bin to the curb, sister’s humto the backdoor with her key and bag in hand. The breaths of our quiet house. I’ve been thinking, lately, about time,…

by Carrie Chappell I skitterthrough your silver screens,your fanfare, my lipsgripping straw’stranslucence. You aremy scandal, my tycoon.You are the raspy spacewherein I trample the shy girlscout within. You arethe myth, fatty-masculinewherein I, searchinglove’s hologram, hold outthe wrapping paper to the light—.Through you and thosewho looked at you and thosewho didn’t look at youand the ways I found outabout you and the wayyou were pervasiveand the way I was not supposed tolove you and the wayI…

by H. Nicole Martin Walking down the street, biting into an apple       I mean rending the skin with every toothed grin,nothing hesitatingafter meeting my psychiatrist who                                    gestured to the tissues on a tableby the wall painted                     white and pebbled with stones, that I ran my fingers over whileshe was out of the…

by Kimberly Ann Southwick how small can a world, how melt, how green, how stretchthe dog on the floor, closer & closer              the clockeach tick a nuance, a bronze medal                          until his noseis wet on the rolling chair         how    smalla world                        Richard at the podium & the photographsof Japan          make…

by Katie Schmid A girl is trying to climb into another girlthrough her mouth. They shiver together,taking up as little space as two girlscan—and slow, through rhythmicmovements of the hips, they tryto find the seam of the world.They are trying to get out and enteranother world of their own making.They will go or they will…