Tag: Poetry

by Zero Ramos Laforga A House in a New Brunswick Reminiscent of Andrew Wyeth by Jim Ross Zero Ramos Laforga is a Filipino queer trans artist, writer, musician, and educator from the San Francisco Bay Area. He is currently pursuing a BFA in English literature and MAT in urban education and social justice from the… Continue reading is this thing on? →

by Laila Jones you've decidedto kick off your shoes.without hesitation,no regard to your woman. as your shoes fall, your feet riseto the coffee table I built.out of every poem I'd written about you.sock stained cursive, one platewhen there’s room for two. cream chrysanthemums spotted brownin the foggy vase I begged you to change.petals withering, almost… Continue reading Riesling →

by Jaden Fong I. Wooden pier splintersbattle the indigo threadsstationed on the bottomsof our newly fading jeans. Our frozen breaths weavewith hot umami steam andconcocts something newamidst the creaking sea. Clumsy, bulbous clumpsof San Francisco sourdoughtossed about carelessly throughthe air like birthday confetti— into the mouths of fishes belowin the bay, between the woodslats, on… Continue reading Eating Clam Chowder with Mom →

by MK Punky Confess with me on supplicating kneesI've never known you in the flesh We sinnersunderstand the knotty eschatologypledged by unknown authorscleansing the affront of ignorancewith a soapy rag of certaintyall of us Saint Paulsslinging imprecations at a heathen worldcloser to annihilation than salvation To know you lordI must make love to you lordhear… Continue reading Knowing →

by JC Alfier From the river that received his ashes like alms,my father stands at his workbench, tinkers in the service of the lesser angels now,heaven acceding his need for a 40-watt bulb cornered away from the radiant surge of Shekinah glory.Departed souls about him will get used to the dimness, study him putzing about… Continue reading Tradesman →

by Mallory Rader For Sabrina I drop your daughter onto her bed with a plunk. You are a daughter. I am a daughter. We joke about being each other’s mother. She wants to be a baby again. I touch something mythological in the air. Your toddler clenches her eyes shut, puts a thumb in her… Continue reading For Sabrina, For Riley →