Poetry

A Room Like This

Chrissy Martin

  I know too well what happens when you become comfortable where you’re not meant to. When a quick hospital scare turns into a do you want to see him?  a                he’s still warm if you want to say goodbye and a paper bag…

For James Waters McLemore, The First

Delaney McLemore

  I know when I tell the world what I’ve named my daughter, there will be a ruckus, but fuck us, right? Those who chose to change a word’s history, to reclaim it, to make into a battle cry. James! I will scream when you…

Two Poems || Grant Hier

Grant Hier

  The Difference Between Entropy and Evaporation “A process is spontaneous if it occurs when it is left to itself in a universe…” — York University, Teaching Chemistry After the thunder, after the pouring, after the sun and the warming, the rain lifts itself back…

A Psalm against J.D. Vance

Keegan Lester

  Spill a little lighting for Ryan & Marcus, Natalie, & my great grandfather. Spill a little lightning for Tom & Jason & Joe & Teresa. Graveyards round here full of people cause there’s a thousand ways into the mine, a thousand ways to be…

How to Learn to Swim

Merridawn Duckler

  Be too old to do exactly as you’re told. Saunter around the lobby while the ancients beckon you to fears you don’t share. Go to the ladies room. In the mirror look nothing like the lady you are supposed to become. Fail to give…

My Daughter

Christina Perez Brubaker

  You’re much prettier with your hair down, when you don’t make that face, when you tilt your head to the left, like a tea pot, pouring a puddle on the floor. Mini attacks disguised as compliments. How will she react when she discovers what…

Killdeer

Mary Buchinger

  In the thumb of Michigan   stories of Indian camps in pockets of thinned woods   long after a treaty took away millions of acres and moved the nations Chippewa  Ottawa  Potawatomi to some river-bound tract out West    far beyond their jeweled Great Lakes   Indian…

Little Joe Gould #6

Devon Balwit

  “n.b. ye twang of little joe(yankee)gould irketh sundry who are trying to find their minds(but never had any to lose)”                                                                                                      e.e. cummings  “The Oral History is a great hodgepodge and a kitchen midden of hearsay, a repository of jabber, an omnium-gatherum of bushwa,…

Police Sirens Still Make Me Shiver

Ace Boggess

  from distance late at night across the river where bars are full with old junkies shaking hands beneath a table on one-way streets where cars pull up to the curb & honk their horns in parking lots of closed-down grocers blacked-out pharmacies & boarded-over…

Five Poems from Liberty Walks Naked

Maram Al-Masri, Translated by Hélène Cardona

  3 I am a human not an animal, shouts the ordinary citizen Ahmad Abdouwhab. With a trembling voice like a prisoner escaped from the cage of fear. The veins of his throat are swollen and his eyes filled with rage. He never read Balzac…

Tsunami

Martha Kalin

  i What do they want, these dream-men, who hold us hostage in the still point of night, in the vast elusive dark sinking sand, who salt-spray our mouths open, after hiding the key, before the deluge, before almost everything goes under, the massive growing…