Category: Poetry

by BEE LB the heart susceptible to predation takes on symbiosis, allowing for growth, expansion, protection. the way a hummingbird will nest near the hawk— too small to be worth the effort of eating— and too low to be threatened by the jays flying high above. the way a heart will thread closed— an attempt… Continue reading this is how you heal →

by William Blackburn saving face with grace, clipping coupons: manufactured cents-off sales, percentages played as gamblers dice whispered and cast aside hoping languid language tranquil resting after diatribe vibrato echoed sneaking on reverberations in slanting timbres across that daily distance from you to me, this chamber, home to homily or simply hominy— all harmonized minor… Continue reading Advertisements →

by James Morehead beneath dimmed chandeliers gripping the mic and dripping sweat onto the barricade rushers below. Perhaps I hear sugar hiccups on cheerios or little red come back as I twist my ear plugs tighter to push pack the pulsing bass and distortion pedal screech. I try inventing lyrics: be true my love, be… Continue reading She sings in cursive on the Fillmore stage →

by Clint King A spider was spinning a web in Self-Help, even after they sterilized the bookstore, leaving hardly a reader's fingerprint or dog ear folded down. She took my breath away; it was all the advice I ever needed to see this glorious climber lower and raise such a body over stacks of sob… Continue reading A Spider in the Bookstore →

by Hannah Mitchell He did not, probably, work with his own hands. A river-god, seated beneath an arch: Unconfined, unlimited, A chemical vessel. Remarkable hills at the foot of the rainbow (The most beautiful of all the colors, A delicate violet, a deep green) Gently exhaled, "We have our joys and sorrows in common." Narcissus… Continue reading The Promotion of Narcissus →

by Kenton K. Yee Go ahead, whet your tongue It's fragrant, flavorful—roses for noses. You like its lightness too. It's infiltrating your recipes. Boiling, broiling, sous-vide— them too. You can't imagine root beer without it. This is the way the world ends, not from zest nor sin but spice complacency. Overgrowth by Larissa Hauck Kenton… Continue reading Anise →

by Hannah Mitchell Writing always feels like a seance at my desk. The souls of my foremothers rise, Curve, twist themselves through my pen. (They demand I write in pen.) (There will be no erasures.) Let me introduce my hand-me-down heart: At its core, a lamp trimmed With cast-off buttons. (My grandmother's mother couldn't write… Continue reading My Grandmothers Write Through Me →

by Erin Jamieson at three in the morning you wake her: how would you like to go on an adventure? her eyes, i imagine, wild & bright with the prospect of time w/ you & even though it’s sleeping & no one is out you drive with her. when i wake i know something is… Continue reading Car Ride →

by Travis Stephens Loose valves, a rocker tip-tapper, something out of whack in my chest. It rattles. Bangs. Time for a tune up, god knows, not a replacement, maybe a little service. Pluck it out. Set it on the work bench. Pressure wash it of memory, of rust and greasy stuff. Maybe a new coat… Continue reading Heart Medicine →

by Kirby Michael Wright Few read anymore, so engraving my poem on a marker is a waste. Buying a plot's pricey too. Cremation? A bargain if I catch a deal making an advanced purchase. Feed my ashes to that giant Norfolk with the ocean view. Pray for my soul during feeding? Forget it. Instead, play… Continue reading Final Request of a Poet →