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Antonio Gamoneda, from Book of the Cold (World Poetry Books, May 2022) translated from Spanish by Katherine M. Hedeen and Víctor Rodríguez Núñez
You smell the wet linens, your acids.
Antonio Gamoneda
from Fourteen Fourteenliners
Why can say passion fruit for instance always begin again
Hsia Yü
IN JANUARY
Low sky, slow air, and nothing much
Julie Bruck
Derealization
I left my body in Barnes & Noble
Julie Heming
Jukkasjärvi, Sweden | Hämeenkyrö, Finland
It flew like a little bird
Mark Wunderlich
Canary Island Date Palm, Love & Ink and Persephone
Couldn’t say the dream I had last night.
Jesse Nathan
HOUSEKEEPING: Frida’s Future Kiss
After the palm reader told her no man would ever claim her,
Lois P. Jones
Back in the U.S.S.R
We weren’t the Beach Boys’ California girls,
Dzvinia Orlowsky
Soldier’s Wife in the Aftermath
After the great war I stepped inside
Andrea Read
At the End of the Alphabet
Books bloated and fanned
Lee Upton
Boy in a Hole
The boy meant to help his father
Maxine Scates
Essay with a Grain of Salt
Salt on black silk
James Richardson
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