The rust iron wing of a train horn
pinballs down glass and steel canyons,
Author: Every Writer
This is about me
Camera Obscura by Peycho Kanev
Light, please initiate me into your
occult philosophy. Tell me where
you come from when you penetrate
a dusty window in the morning and
In Preparation for the Hunt by Bethany W Pope
Picture me waiting
in the nook by the window,
long skirt spread out, falling
red and wet-looking against
The Lane by Annemarie N’ Churre’in
Your First Ocean by Carrie-Ann Tkaczyk
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