by Lucilena Williams There you are fishing pole tipped over a shoulder, fishing pole in the water, fish on the pole. The blue cliffs, the...
by Alysia Nicole Harris Now, Lithuania, before, Elizabeth New Jersey, before, Rome, My dreams know where you’ll go. You’re not dead, you’re just married. But...
by Marcella Yakalis My father’s heart loves the same way mine does, with slowness, from the deepest corners.
by Matthew Wimberley Just beyond the yard crushed snow left in the shape of craters, grass shoots poking through discarded bones.
by Sal Christ And Chicago seems a long, far ways away to travel to or to love
by J. Scott Brownlee Where can I rest the brief weight of my life except deep in this green, gridded mesh of clover & choke-weed
by Liuyu Chen a cloud holding painful rain waiting for the lightning
by John Bennett ... Ask the creamer about our ancestor’s first gathering, a time when things were far from dishwasher safe.
... I am not the only one who is starving in the sea.
"All Through the Dark Night of Your Human Life" by Lisa K. Buchanan & "Activity" by Paul Beilstein
by Inci Atrek & Alper Atrek "Do we really have to go home?”
Not the heart, he says. Not beauty, but what it points toward. Then quiet. Then we stand there.