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Poems
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What if I was uttered into existence through the teamwork of cultists
Timothy Donnelly
Honest Orbit
For weeks I sift in vast exits
Lauren Camp
Inside the guts of fresh fish, just hauled up | Shall we praise the girls who will not come down | It’s about water that didn’t lose its shine
Inside the guts of fresh fish, just hauled up
Aleksey Porvin
To a Man in Rags Holding Out a Cup | A 100-year-old Man Asks Me to Write about Something
I don’t have much
Frannie Lindsay
Swishing Tails of Horses, October
Mine, says the glorious yearling claiming
April Bernard
Where Birds Sleep
It goes down and the birds go to sleep.
Carol Potter
I Watch My Neighbor Watch Porn Movies through The Kitchen Window & Moonflaw
while I wash the dishes, the back of his head propped
Dorianne Laux
Pet of the Week
Oh, Salsa, I too
Cathleen Calbert
Voyager parable and Parable of the Little Ghost
Today I am downhearted meaning sunken meaning mired
Leslie Harrison
From the Ass’s Mouth: A Theory of the Leisure Class
Up on stage in the three-quarters empty auditorium,
Tom Sleigh
War Poems
Mangled tanks at rest on the roadway's shoulder.
Philip Fried
Lava Lakes and Petrified Forests in the Afterlife
I watched a roomful of faces exert effort to remain unrevealed
Dara Wier
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