by: r. miller The After-Party once all the backwash clears and only rudimentary sediment or sentiment remains? No good-time promises to...

By: Jonathan Koven I was a harbinger of loss. I was twenty-six years younger with snails for brains. I recalled the origin’s solace...

By: Kim Harvey Memento Mori Things I can’t forget – willows lights in the trees my brother walking away in the snow what I know I saw in...

By: Bailey Blumenstock ELEPHANT, 1916 One great tooth was infected, hollow as a gun barrel. Before the parade, they gave her bourbon to...

By: Noelle McManus Aglaope I eat the tendons before I eat the bones to feel a snap somewhere in me like mother used to say like the...

By: Sammy Moore namaqualand ​​ october chill melts into morning peel back the sleep from our eyes as shouting fills our ears two battered...

By: Jason Barry Last Days You’ve come to spend the winter here with me, Where light is brief and frozen clouds still blow Above the...

By: Deborah Rosch Eifert Mon Père, Pépère For I am the King of Owls. Where I float no shadow falls. I have hungers, such terrible...

By: Margaret Galey reclaim the solitude & before everyone else falls away damaged goods you sd so now we know & wish we didn’t now we...

By: Danielle Unger HOW TO STOP WORRYING SOMEONE WILL LEAVE YOU The satisfaction of a search result autocompleting after four words....

By: Hans Lucht GONE This forest is haunted by you your long white body on the bed the muddy fields’ brown patches in the plane’s oval...

By: Robert Ronnow The End of Faith –ending with lines by James Taylor and Kenneth Rexroth Two thoughts come to mind this morning. The...

By: Temple Cone feet broken the statue                                                         eyes turned cradled arms                 ...

By: Leon Fedolfi Martha would read the newspaper more than once; box scores, her favorite, and cartoons that made her laugh - small...

By: Matt Vekakis Wild West I know the insular In Shaker saltbox And Victorian turret, Wintercreeper Flagellations over Barren crop...

By: Justin Rigamonti Permafrost After wobbling 400 million miles through ice cold space, the little craft lands on a pitch of scree. It...

By: Kathleen Holliday “They are leaning out for love, and they will lean that way forever.” Leonard Cohen My feet push off the ground...

By: Matthew Mitchell With thanks to Helen Vendler for helping me appreciate Wallace Stevens, and take gentle argument with him Call the...

By: Lara O'Connor Seek your restoration Build a house of joy Wild the banks with goldenrod and asters Let there be a gate, for decoration...

By: Christopher Davies Cascade under crowbar blow to the sawdust: fat ants scatter a seething mass- the pithy windowframe’s cavern studs,...

By: James D. McCallister Vigilant Echo Vigilantly echoing his half-inventory, the only tremendous scheme of the frowning concept drive...

By: Kate Polak Still Life of Panties on a Windshield They may have been there all night— I don’t leave as I might. It’s warm inside,...

By: Jeni O’Neal A Daughter in Parts (I) Daughter as crème brulee, sweet shell and your spoon precariously above, ready to tap, crack,...

By: Melody Leming-Wilson With our windswept faces pressed to the future, theirs behind hard-driven glass, I change course—and reluctantly...