Category: Poetry

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…

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…

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…

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…

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…

by Porsha Olayiwolo we are in my bed again and i am holdingher. this is unlike how we usually fuck. herspine is nested along my forearm and herhands lace my neck. everything is gentle.the lyrics blare for us to bend back and hairtangles the birth of her name in my mouth.i love her hair. black,…

by Kelli Russell Agodon Praise Find me wild about stir-fry, about red velvetsofas and the people who sleep inside booksand dream about commas. We are floodedwith forgetfulness, with fallen plum blossomsmisspelling our names on the driveway. Praiseour too many expectations, how we overestimatethe weather, each other, overestimate how deerwill appear if we arrive with food.…

by Tom Kelly was traffic jams, rest stops, diner eggs splashed with Tabasco sauce, was hitchhikers’ thumbs & deer skulls & Mom playing I Spy a cactus, was heat lightning, ostrich farms, donuts stolen by prairie dogs, drive-ins & billboards & dicks drawn on road maps & bikers fucking in a cop car, Dad determined…

by John Paul Martinez Take my hand, it’s ceramic. You may hold it            as firm as you’d like. Slide our rings from one joint to another. Whatever it takes            to make our hands feel more than they are. Teach me how to peel clementines, one finger            then the next. Make a fist to show me how soft I must always hold…

by Suzanne Highland my god made me a brutalist. an idolizer of concrete instead of autumn. disciple of architecture isolating one window from the next. my god still drops into my dreams sometimes as a small safe or an ankle monitor. reciprocates my loyalty by shoving my face in it. even the trees behave more…