Category: Poetry

  • The Boxers I Sniffed in a Boy’s Bathroom in Middle School

    by Dylon Jones after Doug Paul Case They were blue, patternedwith little white ships, the waist wrinkled loose in the back where one of his brosyanked them down after the game. Everyone laughed. Him, too. Even me.I sculpted a grin & picked sand from my teeth. What else can you do when you’re a boy & a boypinches […]

  • My Father Has Me Hold a Hen

    by Alfredo Aguilar                                                       against the dirt. i feel its plumage,                                                      panic as it struggles to get out                                                       of my grasp. he yells at me                                                      con ganas! como si tienes huevos!                                                                   & lightning flashes                                                      through me. i want to shove him,                                                       but i do nothing, say nothing—                                                      just clench the bird’s wings tighter                                                       as he brings a knife down on its neck.                                                                  once, my father […]

  • Personal Statement: Foraminifera / Pohlsepia

    by Danielle Weeks Personal Statement: Foraminifera I am from the kingdom of what I am not,shout and lung, a shell that stays hiddenin the body. I am not the girl who stoppedbreathing when she climbed the cemeterywall. I am the way you draw the invisible:Here is a thin dotted outline. Here is lightwithout sugar. All […]

  • Fathering

    by Alec Prevett I was born inthe same hospitalas my father Does that             make me eligible            to be a father            Can the gender            less father I can                         crush the bulb                        of a flower                        until prematurely                        its petals shoot forthlike a hundredviolet limbs I saygenderless but mean             genderful like how            white is the whole            spectrum at once I have            asked my body what it                         wants, offered                        to plant a garden                        in its […]

  • The Yangtze River

    by Erin O’Malley My sister’s body isn’t where she left            it—gunfire      shredding the belly      of the city,            the streets bayoneted red.      The scent of meat stalingon her breath. Men bornthe year of every wildanimal, which is to say: menwho are men but half-            starved. Her legs locked      in fear            like ammunition      […]

  • Another earth / Dyad

    by Triin Paja Another earth there were no birds, even if the treescreaked like the birds, even if the dawn implied the perpetuity of a sensualsky, as I saw a bird-shadow on a walland awoke to an earth that seemediridescent, unbeautiful as a seabirdwhich tarred oil turns fromgull to crow. I buried a small birdand climbed […]

  • Plea Bargain / On My Brother’s Third Birthday in Prison / On My Youngest Daughter’s Third Birthday

    by Rebecca Schumejda Plea Bargain A blue jay flew into our front windowanother watches from a tree branchas a shadowy figure looms overits stunned mate.  How often do you think you knowwhere you are going swear the reflection is sky not glass? On My Brother’s Third Birthday in Prison I will never tell him howthe further I get […]

  • Spectacular, Spectacular / Repastoral / Miracles keep making everything

    by Brad Trumpheller Spectacular, Spectacular In any kind of two-way glass daffodil there’s the nightI put on my lover’s dress & it fit me like a renaissance. Snap the shoulder straps in time with the streetlights.Click click goes the clock I disregard on principle. My, what a wick you have. What an ankle-length shadowI’m faking. My loud […]

  • Symptomatic

    by Chelsea B. DesAutels Even after stitchesI bled through cotton & time— red afternoons,crimson midnights. Still they hush womenwho complain & anyway I was busy tending the baby so I washedmy underwear into rags. What would you have done? A woman knows when to bite her tongue, how to grindthe muscle until there’s nothing left but sweet familiar red.  Chelsea B. DesAutels’s work appears […]

  • The Golf Course Is On Fire. That’s a Start

    by BJ Soloy We’re not just hunted for sport or food; we’re hunted for light.The light here is broken, with a certain ferocity,a stutter bred in captivity. As we wait, patient, light shoots through the glass & glassed light sprays & stainsthe walls. After hacking up oursavior’s name, I’m so hungry.Honey in the skull. I address the […]