By: Samantha Wright There is sky-blue Chevy carving its way across the American summer. I’m right behind it. I follow until it’s a...

By: Josephine Pino I am the hollow ends of the stems grown out of control. I await the hatchet, forlorn in open mouthed surprise, even as...

By: Trapper Markelz Who Goes First? The friend says: I am here for you. I need nothing but your eyes. I will remove the cherry pits just...

By: Elodia Esperanza Benitez Nettle cried down to Rock And Rock later recalled to Beetle Who visits us in our decay What of our mother,...

By: Olga Dugan The Frame spring cleaning done, redressing walls my niece, and day pupil since illness, early retirement, holds up a...

By: Karen Greenbaum-Maya As though this needed to be said. Even if reincarnated, we are vivid this way only this time. I fill feeders for...

By: Ash Good us? beautiful / prepared for our own demise Vanport, Ore., Sept. 26, 2020 In “us? beautiful / prepared for our own...

By: Virginia Laurie A lesbian's response to Whitman I want to sing again: her body, electric I want her performance & her sacred I know a...

By: Joseph Kerschbaum Camouflaged in ivy & underbrush, headlights approached & dissolved as my friends dared each other to see who had...

By: Clif Mason Selfie with Percy Bysshe Shelley Voices arise from the vast miasma of the distressed & depressed, the recently deceased....

By: Jenny Keto a cut orange in drought—to bite into wet flesh after tachy- heart cardio burns breath hot as air air hot as breath...

By: Thomas Sepulveda Remembering water The months of rain have ended. I remember I am supposed to water the yard, I remember you in the...

By: Katya Belena DATURA Droplets of Selene, still loyal watching, trailing the tide-mover cold mother the condition we call moonstruck is...

By: D. Dina Friedman SNAKE No one believed my brother when he saw the black one writhing its evil in the grass. This was before...

By: Julie Benesh Wave Manometers measure pressure but the act of observation changes the observed. Bitter pattern is like spewing iron...

By: Andrea Michalowsky It's just about the sex. It’s not the sex, it’s the feeling after, realizing a man can obliterate me. I’ve always...

By: Amanda Hiland Northern Lights Flo, wound in a pale blue coat, gets up every ten minutes and cannot remember where she’s going. I find...

By: Benjamin Rose Avenge, O Lord, thy slaughter’d saints... —John Milton, Sonnet 18 We curse in the parlance of former Hill staffers And...

By: Lily Mayo He looked at me, like my body was sculpted of ambrosia and honey. My voice flowed like nectar into his mouth-- he guzzled...

By: Ruth Mota Take me Sun as you do the yellow tulip who unfolds her cup each morning to drink your mana. Cover me Sun like loam’s warm...

By: J.B. Hill What to Say When I say, “How are you?” I don’t know what that means. A person who says such a thing could be worried,...

after Joseph Conrad By: Ian C. Webb The King of Belgium stroked his sepia beard, with a spin of the globe, found a gap on the map, and...

By: Jocelyn Ulevicus Dyed pink, the baby’s breath looks wild to me—so much more beautiful than the filler-flowers of my girlhood bouquets...

By: Ruhani Chhabra winter the days are short which means that darkness is longer. you may not be able to see them, but you can feel their...