By: Gerard Sarnat Well you maybe vaguely recall third grade history but definitely for sure still can see in your mind John Wayne movie...

By: Joe Volpe Suddenly your eyes sharpen, forehead furrowed like folds of hills carved by glacial waters. I’m reminded of trivia nights...

By: David Colodney And next week I’ll ask you the same question again even though you told me last week not to always ask when you’d be...

By: Eric Bodlak In January, we watched Flight 2379 spirit him up into the choppy grey, until even the bright-white of the tailborne LEDs...

By: Marcy Rae Henry i’m writing her a poem about an alchemical tale i was told in Egypt a scarab pushes bolitas de mierda down the...

By: Sam Blauw Chicken Bones Chicago fades in honest shades pressed violets and pressed bruises we’re wholesome as broken vows dizzy...

By: Peter Junker 1.  A WHITE COLLAR LIFE The welfare of the workers has been put In my hands after my leadership skills We're recognized...

By: Jimmy Symington IV THAT THERE IS SOMETHING I SHOULD REMEMBER TO DO I drain night for its ashes. I baptize salt to store the sun. I...

By: Flose Boursiquot Through the screen  I see:  eyes blood red  lips trembling  then I see him.  Then, him.  He speaks  through tears ...

By: Addison Hoggard Facada The dogs here all look like puppies, stunted grumbles behind soft eyes attached to bodies that sing years and...

By: Caitlin McGillicuddy Already broken Mess one, pile two Stuffed fierce and strong. A puff of cigarette smoke Wisps then gone. You...

By: Irwina Samara When You Dance When you dance You invent a new alphabet One that’s spoken proficiently In the African Sahara As well as...

By: M Zaman An Ode to Cancer The King Crab casts its spell in one ochre morning. The sun shines through the roof where the crimson...

By: Katherine Lutz “Karintha was a woman . . . The soul of her was a growing thing ripened too soon.” —from Cane by Jean Toomer ​ A 12 by...

By: Rex Brooke I walk the old road toward my boyhood home where you are dying. The road cuts still remind me of ocean waves. Moving...

By: Danielle Vermette When my father was dying,  he said a lot of funny things that  he didn’t know were funny In the final stand, as a...

By: Mackenzie Schubert Pressing Flowers All things become richer in rainfall. The forest’s arms, my lover’s eyes, my grandmother’s grief....

By: Meara Levezow Ritual Were I to meet you in a high school classroom and transform your flesh into tiny plastic cubes, could I finally...

By: Sofya Martine I Ask If You Want To Take My Earrings Out Your easy hands push my hair -- then you confront the apparatus. You stop. ...

By: Margaret Galey b r o  k   e n nothing happened that  day as I was hoping glassafterglass & no one sang hands pressed too hard on...

By: Jonathan Heidenreich To Be Found in Festivals for Kaitlin Keeping a winter court at the base camp of coffee grounds we learn that...

By: Laura Stephenson The Stats Spell Doom, Oh Well. Now, forty-seven percent of insects drop dead! Anyway, the science is inconclusive to...

By: Victoria Dym wolf room grief light this room is the same— light leaks through the blinds horizontal lines, morning art, the nudes,...

By: Gerry Hendershot Till Death Do Us Part ​ He stands at the ironing board starching the collar of a white shirt for church; she sits...