by Katie Berta | Jun 13, 2020
or, rather, we see his shoes poking out from beneath the yellow tarp someone—a police officer— has hastily thrown over his body. Never never never have I see such expressive shoes, their dumb faces gaping at the passing traffic. My husband says, “Let...
by Adam Clay | Jun 10, 2020
In a Silent Way The wounded deer died in the impossible garden. Did it become the orchid that shouldn’t be there, the cactus dying in a rain puddle? The trestle bridge carries more weight than my body, but the heft of a memory changes everything. I look...
by Catherine Esposito Prescott | Jun 8, 2020
Shark Valley New Year’s Day, 2018 Horizontal pock-marked rocks lie in the shallow swamp like tombstones to fallen alligators—as if to say Cassius lived here, Orion slept there, and Sirius ate turtles...
by Katharine Whitcomb | May 31, 2020
Hotel Poem I sat up sleepless one northern winter in an old padded...
by Dana Roeser | May 20, 2020
Lime Green “Picnic Set”...
by Penelope Cray | May 16, 2020
Some canceled and some didn’t. They canceled because canceling was proposed. They said yes, I will, and canceled. Others said no but had to cancel anyway. The ceiling dropped, the walls widened. Home, it was, then. They canceled out of abundant caution....
