By: Bryan Damien Nichols Pantoum for Middle Age When darkness crowns the dwindling life What’s left for us is lesser light. We pray for...

By: Marlene Woods From now on I shall make love to you on paper, through my verses because your disposition to love me and my patience...

By: Luke Smith-Adams An eclipse was scheduled for tonight. I wrote the date down. It has not as yet arrived. My understanding is these...

By: Dana Roark solo my other half is facedown all gin slumped beside me and i want nothing to do with him, or us but outside is a pink...

By: Barry Roth Hypothesis Testing Time slowing down to a sort of cactus, I reduce to the size of an eye-beam shooting down the tube of my...

By: Sierra Ellison like the first time, but her skin has grown too thick, so he switches to the larger needle and the pain smears across...

By: Sara Gilbert TikTok says only people with ADHD un-focus their eyes at will. My eyes ease, bleary blue-light spreads for several...

By: Michael Waterson Displaying O’Keeffe’s flower paintings to eighth graders, saying, … resembling the female creative principle, or …...

By: Emily Kingery Grief It didn’t have teeth, at first, and I held nothing in my palms to feed it in the yard. A breeze twisted my...

By: Richard Widerkehr Taking Him Home - after reading Lynn Emanuel’s Then Suddenly Stay put, you call to your dead father. You like the...

By: Landon Smith The City Smells Like a Mint and Band-aids The soil has cried for so long that we can feel it in our bones when it’s...

By: Aliyah Curry Things that pop in my mind at (insert time) Before the sexual assault, we went to a reptile convention, pricing bearded...

By: Kip Knott What Two Bits Could Buy for Patsy Cline, 1932-1963 Your life ended not long after mine began. I can’t remember ever hearing...

By: Coleman Bomar Skating On his breath Smooth And knee scrapingly Cold The I Love Yous Like Zambonis Thicken over A slick Thesaurus of...

By: Joshua Kulseth Beating After Robert Hayden My father cups his hand in the way we were taught to cup our hands to make a stroke...

By: Amanda Hartzell Ocean City Outside the dark is a whole mouth of the sea. A vacation car on gravel moves the teeth. If you’re hungry...

By: Chloe Bausano I. A menagerie of memories Kaleidoscope as cowlicked Waves push me into the Sand. Incited nostalgia Whips naivete...

By: Charlie Brice Les Mouches Love or hatred calls for self-surrender. J.P. Sartre, The Flies He liked to keep it wet and warm—no matter...

By: Nikki Martin crowd surges closer toGather in the heatair scenting wet grass, denim, cotton commingle with the sweat of several...

By: Paul Koniecki or textbooks on physics for poets the crunch of gravel the scratch of correspondence pages crying out memory turn the...

By: Lauren Burstein The trees, the yellow grass, every crack in the newly paved highway, the boulders ahead, the ones behind— a...

By: Noah B. Salamon At the Santa Monica DMV The woman ahead of me cannot be 27. She is not quite blonde (the writing on her form is...

By: Laura Sminchak Child you are fathomless involving immeasurable depths housing limitless spirit bearing untold goodness. Do not wade...

By: Robert Eugene Rubino You’re my rock — says it like it’s a chant of high holy praise green-gray eyes wide with gratitude evokes...