by Sneha Subramanian Kanta Praise the weeds. The monarchs on milkweeds. Praise your gut, with all its dreams for utopias.…
by Jason Harris after Clint Smith They only see me as animal. forgetting they too are animal. they only see…
by Shana Ross For BG, among others One has softened, grown warm and round. When we see each other, that…
by alyssa hanna the visitors always come, but they always end up leaving. swollen families stay and watch like we…
by Jacob Fowler to drown is to die with something in you,then what is it to die while driving, to…
by Tori Shaw I shovel dirt into my mouth taste the four corners of my jaw until I am floating…
by Juliette van der Molen i am dust covered in the rubble, waitingfor the air to clear. and we are…
by Clara Ray Rusinek Klein Lifting the attic trapdoor,I see grandpa’s boots dangling, the chair tumbled,the rafter bowed, splintered where…
by Jill Bergantz Carley On the asphalt at the turnaround, we wrote in chalk, in the largest letters:Two homes, flume…
by Zachary Bond We traffic in the rhythms of urge. In the black turbulence of the self, I tried not…