Category: Print Archives

Poetry: Terry L. Kennedy’s “Evidence of Things Unseen”

In the dream, there’s a forgotten pasture I can’t stop finding, just as, when I’m there, I can’t stop feeling at ease, at home—and isn’t that, before, what it was? Familiar clearing at the edge of the wilderness, whose centered oak created shade and, much later, lightning? As for family—Yes—and all of them—and with little…
Two Poems by Amanda McCormick

[ ] Bow to my thighs or I’ll break you with them.Anthills of poison, delivery track.Pump up the sex if you want to chewin the new year as her cavities grow.I couldn’t centralize my stomachafter you’d gone; I left my heart behind a fishnet. Flopping like bait in a fishnet,my…
Fiction: Faith Gardner’s “Moonburn”

I’d never heard of moonburn either before I got one. My skin’s pale as dinnerware. I’ve been mistaken for a ghost on foggy nights, sent passersby sprinting and screaming in opposing directions. My paleness is serious. Hair and brows, too. Even my eyes are water-blue, which means hardly blue at all. The suggestion of blue. The night I got moonburned,…
Two Poems by Daniel D’Angelo

Eidolon at Autumn Like deadand still seen inthe back yard of water.Extra syrups:more years forcedout of a sycamorefor effect I’m likethe rest you getat the end. Waterthrown in your face.Lightbulbedin place. Well, water.Ourselvesfelt betterand more haunted. Was: all that I sawweathery, barkingbrush. I get all the ideastogether: I hearthis time: yousound like reheating liquidin a…
Two Poems by Parker Tettleton

I’m Somewhere Has An Apostrophe It’s honest to feel anything but. I’m older every day, younger every year. There’s beer in our mouths and smiles are pilgrim as fuck. It’s midnight when I can look my teeth in the mirror. Hands In Lapse I smoke in the shower, someones in my sleep I drink. That’s…
Three Poems by David Brennan

Robert Frost, OMG, above me is the moon and Mars and scalloped dictionariesof cloud falling open to the page obsoletelives on. Like a Jazzercise class with one studentand a militant instructor, that’s how the moonmakes Mars work its lower abs. And the coldis gorgeous and tender, like you, and meanand abrasive, like you, and you…
Poetry: M.G. Martin’s “over & over until again”

it’s not that you get better, worse, or stay the same, but that you are all of the above. you are greater than the sum & are all of the parts. the worst part of your you is me & i will bite the words “i love you” until my teeth abandon my gums. creeley…
Two Poems by Joshua Kleinberg

The Gray—for Frank O’Hara This house is dark like an antique movie.You forget there’s wood underneathuntil the paint begins chipping away,you forget how everything’s just earth.The music drifts in from another room,sleepy and solemn and glazed-eyedand there is the wind, whispering at me,something too ripe with doom to recite.In Texas, they say no one ever…
Fiction: David Tomaloff’s “The Brother Pact”

On this day we find a brother. This brother is a brother in a bathtub quietly bathing. An unlocked door on the second story & a window open to the smell of a father pressing cheap cuts into a charred black grill. We find also on this day this brother’s brother. A one-boy militia, this…