by Laura Booth The soul has no need for a Cybertruck, although the soul needs love, and to move, freely, on Boisduval’s blue wings, from shadow to sun in a shimmering line, from lupine to lupine, and to drink wine sometimes in a field, exclaiming at night’s volley of a star. The soul does not… Continue reading The Soul Has No Need for a Cybertruck
Tag: Poetry
AT THE FILLMORE
by Laura Booth Post–strawberry vape smells like Sex Wax. Beer. Blue strobe. Rock unzips my brain. Laura Booth is a biologist working in the Golden Gate National Recreation Area and a student in USF’s Master of Science in Environmental Management program. She hosts an open mic at Black Bird Bookstore in the Outer Sunset. Her… Continue reading AT THE FILLMORE
Blue Period
by Blue Fay [AUTOEROTICA] Blue came to me like Venus in reverse shirtless at dawn on the shoulder of the freeway I was fourteen-years-old my life was as long as a sonnet and Blue threatened me with it the car was totalled crushed into the shape of the clamshell Blue climbed out of a man… Continue reading Blue Period
My Dear Sugar
by Jianna Marie Cedeno Until the day she died, my grandmother made café con leche and avena every morning—sweet and creamy. a hint of bitterness. She stirred until milk forgot it was milk, until sugar disappeared into itself— unbleached linen, a vestige of our ancestors. Under midday sun, sticky cane juice soaked into raw palms… Continue reading My Dear Sugar
Water Memory
by Marie Hoffman The milky white water rolls over me in gentle waves, set in motion by my legs lifting out and resting on the edge of the bathtub. The sleek white panels coated in steam take me into a milky white memory of the white hallway that trails on forever, the window I peer… Continue reading Water Memory
EPIPHANY IN THREE LONELY PARTS
by Aria Shum Owl Reluctant to Leave the Mountains by Rebecca Pyle Aria Shum is a poet and prose writer from Chicago. Her work is published/forthcoming in Small Orange Journal, Eunoia Review, After Hours, and more, which can be found at aria-shum.carrd.co. She is currently studying violin performance at the San Francisco Conservatory of Music.… Continue reading EPIPHANY IN THREE LONELY PARTS
DEAR SEAGULL
Dive Bars
by Sarah Bess Jaffe We watched Bin Laden get shot through the window of an Irish pub in Queens. Well, we didn’t see it but, you know. I thought you were such a big deal. We were sunbitten that day. Remember when we liked the guy in charge,in spite of everything? We rode our bikes everywhere,stuck on the BQE’s hot ribbon,for a daylong noon… Continue reading Dive Bars
I want you, for the last time
by Aidan Cox Turning your head, hair ablaze in the morning sun like a lit match. And in conversation, in the old, gold frame of a faded painting. That landscape, the little brown stork, those oak trees.The late night of a party and all the warm, glowing bulbs behind his head. You will be reflected in… Continue reading I want you, for the last time
Greek to Me
by Steven O. Young Jr. I can’t remember where I heard it, or how I learned to define the obvious,but my notepad begins in avowal: Philtrum | means love potion | in Greek. I want to claim it came carried in on your lips,a sumptuous goblet brimming with morning glories gathered from the pastel garden planted between your edenic senses, but… Continue reading Greek to Me




