On the Semi-Frozen Sanabria

By Ernesto L. Abeytia

My brother laughs, bets he can cross
Without falling through.

We know he can’t—
The ice is too thin. ...


By Darby Price

If those without memory live nowhere/ then the reverse must be true and/ we live everywhere at once, in places/ exhumed, reanimated/ so often we forget their names/ We forget so much these days:/ which road took us to St. Mark’s/ where the lighthouse was/ the native names of rivers/ we threw ourselves into/ pale buoyant bodies illuminating/ ancient sinkholes/ in woods we can’t recall heat lightning guttering/ in far-off clouds/ How many years since/ the rope swing/ parabola leap/ How many years/ since the killdeer’s call bored into us ...

Full Gallop


I return to the house a little more burned,/ a little more/ peopled by your faces turned toward that horserace/ the past/ where we are from, where winter ...


By Marcus Jackson

The rain was righteous and godless,/ and when together, in a room during such rain,/ our concerns took on the disposition/ of a purse full of shattered glass. ...

Double Exposures

By Madhu H. Kaza

I walked down the street towards the subway attentive to the shifting geography ahead, to the uneven sidewalk, which looked as though an active fault line ran below. ...

Genesis 1:27

By Paul Tran

If nobody believes a liar/ when they tell the truth,/ then imagine it reversed:/ the villagers sent home/ from the field with nothing/ but disappointing gossip. ...

Stanzas to Those Just Arriving

By Rae Gouirand

Once in autumn’s ease date palm branches/ swung over my back, sugars creamed inside their skins—/ I’d never have guessed owls would nest in
anything called the phoenix, that we’d practice confessions/ watching their shapes come and go on the way out/ to prey. But night hung beautifully and/ time practiced meaningless phrases. These I didn’t pick/ but pitted for us, amber in their red skins, so syrupy/ and rich. Somehow they crystallize both ... heaviness and light—

My Friend Asked Me To Teach Her Daughter To Kickbox

By Jenny Liou

And so I drove through February to find a twelve-year old/ outside in shorts, a t-shirt, and boxing gloves. She’s strong enough to/ hurt me, if I let her, and she learns the way a child learns, her whole/ heart behind every punch. ...


By Ryan Canlas

The honeysuckle’s taste went white down our backs. Grass became soft bones and sun. We searched without knowing it for a sense of a collective. The pollen/ glossed our skin and we tongued it ...

America’s Got Talent

By Jenny Browne

A one night stand in Jackson, Mississippi./ The soft opening outside Cheyenne./ There’s a laughing gull on Miami Beach/ & the ampersand tattoo you didn’t/ regret getting in Portland ...

The Laughter Age

By July Westhale

When I am there, many empires from now/ laughter will be a thing of the past. The Laughter Age./ Which will have ruled longer than the Ottoman,/ but not as long as the Byzantine. Which will have/ kept us in stitches and fits long enough to notice/ its absence, but not enough to remember its balm./ You will buy me a gyro wrapped in the news, since/ many things change but some do not, and we still need/ print journalism. It remains a flea market, though pests ...

While Watching Ice Dancing, I Contemplate Mortality

By Joanna Penn Cooper

We must endeavor to be our pastoral selves. I am looking into/ the refrigerator. I am thinking of Mr. Rogers. Before bed I listen/ to him being impossibly gentle through my headphones. I wake up/ ...

[For all the world, for all the noise]

By Justin Rigamonti

For all the world, for all the noise, just close your eyes. Then open them./ I see a sunshine & a wind. Okay, I see the grassy plaza, two cement paths in/ cruciform, I see the/ yellow siding ...

Spring Draw-Down

By Paul Willis

You tiny flowers, cream and purple,/ you smooth and sloping greens of lawn/ on the sandy rings of this reservoir,/ why do you bother? ...


By L. S. Klatt

When I left my body, the voyageurs nibbled the bones/ & yelped, feeling willful & saintly, with nothing/ up their sleeves. Except that the aftermath was not what/ they thought ...


By Kate Durbin

C: I’m Claire, I’m an avid reader, aspiring/ writer, and I collect a lot of books filling/ the entire house so there are only narrow ...


By Joshua Hagler

Furiously I’ve forgotten/ who gave me the jigsaw puzzle/ in exchange for Danny. The box/ covers my crosslegged lap,/ shrink-wrapped, and rattling/ from inside./ Aquaman in orange rises/ with his trident from the sea./ His friends descend from the top of the picture./ Offshore/ an oil rig between them burns./ I am six and shirtless and dripping/ wet on the trampoline. I am/ a superhero. A hovering/ jet breathes hoarsely overhead ...