Breathless, the whole way
down, skimming
fuchsia, rag-ferns,
Your First Ocean by Carrie-Ann Tkaczyk
No taller than my knee
when you challenge
your first ocean.
Learning to Speak by Christopher Oie Keller
There are so many names for things and new
things needing names that polyglots may have the fastest
Child at Tobacco Market by Charlotte Matthews
Child at Tobacco Market by Charlotte Matthews Nights I go looking for the whippoorwill but she’s not to be found, spotted feathers restless as the cursive letters in my handwriting book. I saw bank swallows swoop into their burrow along the marsh, one brood, a clutch of five. Today’s Saturday, and my grandfather has woven […]
soar by Camille Thigpen
soar by Camille Thigpen and this is for ultramarine ink splatters on my wrist and jawbone; this is for clavicles sharpened by crescent-moon blades , float, ether-lithe (hollow bones and swollen fingers: similar ends [signpost rusted; hum, softly, origin on this here street someone sometime was born, despite glass between cobblestones]) this is for incense-smoke […]
Healing by Richard Brobst
Ultimately we must learn to accept
our losses (as constellations eventually
accept their passing one
the bedsheet weighs in by Wanda Morrow Clevenger
morning bedsheet weighs a ton on same-old
hard to face no matter the season with same
knee pinch neck grind jaw pop joint ache, but
Snow starved by Shweta Garg
I was snow starved all this time
Was eager for the fall to
Skirt in its random leaves and make way
For the white candy floss
For One Day by Michael Vinciguerra
I wish for one day
I could be someone else
To say what they say
To feel what they felt
Remember by Art Heifetz
Despite a notice in the paper
Requesting contributions
In lieu of flowers,
They continued to arrive,
LEVI & ME by Cynthia Lewis-Jones
LEVI & ME by Cynthia Lewis-Jones My genes are customized denim: unique, a one-off design. The Left leg is forty shades of green, tough, durable, for roaming in wild, damp places. The right is practical, calm as red-white-&-blue, sailing the seas of maritime history Yet black as ebony, vibrating secrets of imperial angst in […]
Coffee by Tim Heron
He rolls off the sofa
Stumbles into the kitchen
The table’s a riot
2 a.m. by Michael Pacholski
2 a.m. by Michael Pacholski so still a hummingbird fluttered only once in its sleep and was hushed by nest-neighbors as the only motorcycle in town zoomed from one junction road to the next ripping the air collecting solitudes as fields of soy and fallow corn contemplated ripeness and the looming winter
For Semimaru by Grace Andreacchi
Twin blossoms bowed
by the weight of white beauty
Untitled by Austin Bagwell
Untitled by Austin Bagwell All I want is to lose myself, to drown in the ink. If life could be still long enough, if I could find the right cliff, my words would flow forth like a war cry, like a kiss. ### Austin Bagwell, 21, is from Amarillo, Texas. His work has appeared in […]