• Ode to My Leopard Print Coat

    after Neruda

    by Carrie Etter

    If there must be
    winter at least
    I will wear this
    leopard print
    cape of a coat,
    thick faux fur
    smelling of dried
    jasmine and sweat,
    drawing friends near
    to …

  • Everything Ends

    by Martha Silano

    but so what. In the sultry nights of August, I’ll unravel –
    wanna join me? We can pant ourselves pantless,

    share a double brushfire on the raucous. Together
    we can …

  • Rock House

    by Allison Adelle Hedge Coke

    This rock house loft can’t sustain the sway
    from mile-deep brine water pumping back, it crumbles

    like my hand crushed last winter,
    car door slammed,
    digits malformed into turnkeys
    that don’t …

  • Lucidity

    by Laynie Browne

    From shine, lux, light, sleep with the dreamer awake, languid as if in water

    If we were free from obscurity would everyone pause as instructed

    The way birds dip and dive then …

  • Étude

    by Travis Chi Wing Lau

    Lotuses unfolding
    into dreamfish,
    slurrying into
    queer failure:
    how the
    fails me
    (or have I
    failed the
    vine and
    too untrained
    for even fingering,
    too feral
    for firmness


    by Lisa Moore

    I have been living in this house for eleven years
    today is the day I began to inhabit it

    the glass table in the corner of the room
    the hand-sized chunk …

  • Portals Are Having a Moment

    by Julie Choffel

    on the TV & I’m having a moment that’s not
    my world not ripped apart by light or arms
    weary from swimming the multiverse
    Harjo says I cannot walk through …

  • the voice

    by Marcela Sulak

    The woman often wondered what voice the girl
    had when she was alone. Of course, it was possible
    that the voice only sounded in company, and that
    when the girl …


    by Faith Gómez Clark

    The ultrasound technician probes
    the mother’s bulging belly,
    wiggles it, trying
    to get the fetus to share
    the secret between its legs.

    But the mother already knows.
    She thinks of her …

  • At Blue Lake

    by Nicole Callihan

    The hands are not stopped at noon,
    are pouring clean water from a green pitcher.
    The vacancy in me flashing from the road.
    Swimming pool. CABLE TV. Park in back.

  • Marriage Lesson: Fight

    by Iris Jamahl Dunkle

    Am sea deep and seaweed thick tangled. Am
    weighted blanket, hide.   Am hush of woods, not

    a needle stirred. Am crack of oak, fallen.
    shush of purpled sky under fist …