Current Issue (1)

Poetry Spotlight (3 Poems) / David Ruekberg

Cradle No matter how I try to dodge it or what accidents of fate get in my way, the green light persists in dogging me like, well, a dog, or a light that’s green sifting in through windows after hours, in my dreams, or every evening when I sit on the back porch and let [...]

“warm/cool wet” / Heidi Kraay

I think about you, in that clear open glass filled up halfway I make you room temperature If I print my finger in you and you’re chilled, I let you sit countertop. Then I carry you to Dad’s room, where he’s sleeping always sleeping Where it smells like vinegar. I take you to his bedside [...]

“When you are still asleep” / Erin Jamieson

I sit at my window, letting fog drape over my eyelids like a lazy, stretching cat I am careful not to open my eyes not to break this moment of transformation (even if it is only in my mind) my skin, new, unblemished by yesterday’s and tomorrow’s Not beautiful, but raw in this light natural [...]

“Memoir–A Poem” / Bishnupriya Chowdhuri

Like the skin on your four-year knees your family of cats had little to hide. Your family of birds father, feather, fairy mother flying on a scooter those early years in Jalpaiguri… Where did it begin, those gooseberry winters? Right there, nobody’s cat plunged swift as fog and vanished forever. You can recognize still the [...]

“The Firewatcher” / Elizabeth DelConte

The faded paisley couch—tan and pea green and a surprisingly soft blue —was comfortable only after a few drinks. It smelled of mold and ash. And it was damp. It had rained a few days ago, twenty-four-hours-worth of steady thrumming. The next few days had been hot and dry. Still, the dampness was there. Deep. [...]

“Rockets in the Sun” / Ashley Inguanta

I have seen more snakes this year than I can remember. They hide sometimes, behind shrubs and under rocks. Sometimes they curl in leaves–still–as I pass. Other times they walk the same path as me, and no, this is not a metaphor; handfuls of snakes have found me this year. They come out like towns [...]

“Golden Walk” / Hunter Keough

Transpire in me the curiosity of stones; what it is to be inanimate & still be placing yourself in the world. ___ Hunter Keough is a second year MFA poetry student at the University of Memphis. His work was nominated for a 2018 AWP Intro Journals Award.

“A Horizon of Trees” / adam j nelson

bugs was a bit of a problem in august . fucking spiders get gigantic . they born in spring . they grow really fast feeding off souls and shit all summer . one time i smacked one with the back of my hand . in the dark at nite in the tent . felt like a [...]