Lord of the broken lot as I used to hear on late night TV I can accept your baggage which we carry together you say I miss you in a new way this year I betray my […]
Poetry
Psalm with Static
We Shall Undergo
by Diana Garza Islas
translated from the Spanish by Cal Paule
the foam
but say foam
and that poem I decreed
you’ll bite
caramel sphinxes in the sponginess
(for them)
This exquisite poem attempts the tender job of building an island in the foam and then breaking it down to sea level giving us quite the heady experience.
Montreal, 2016 by Emily Pinkerton
dusk: the air hot and full of dust. brutalist diplomatic buildings aged in that patina, dim as parking garages. our days were long and languid. heat pulled us like a leash, guiding our way to the water; no trees save for paltry saplings straining against the sun to put down roots. EMILY PINKERTON lives and […]
THE COAT
by Dani Janae
Like a black bag thrown over a prisoner’s head, the coat fits taut against his shoulders. He must have seen a tailor. He must have had the foresight to bargain like a knife: with teeth. A chirp sounds in the courtroom. What I think a bird is just the laugh in his throat. The coat, […]
Humpback
by Ben Kline
Cougar is the most searched type of porn, the clickbait claims, making it my lucky year to turn fifty, to turn away the young men who follow my crow’s feet across the room at fundraisers and wedding receptions, their arms jostling my lumbar saddlebags, their hellos mimicking the nod they offer their grandpas and sugar […]
this one goes out to the one-eyed love
by Ed Go
flesh of myflesh & blood of myblood bone of mybone & muscle of mymuscle brain of mybrain & heart of myheart lung of mylung & lung of mylung intestines of myintestines, large&small thigh of mythigh knee of myknee calf of mycalf & calf of mycalf […]
fag vows
by Andrew Ketcham
something like adultery something like a tire fire big hands the shape and scope of god blistering your body something new
Ghazal for Valley Girl
by Mitali Khanna Sharma
See, what I’m trying to say is that you make sense, being born to this web of mutation & rust like museum jars, ethnopaleobotanical archaeology, drought, & Vitamin C gummies
in the pericardium
by Nadja Küchenmeister,
translated from the German by Aimee Chor
back to the core, center and crux /
a husked thing hangs from strands /
in the pericardium a span
Spirit Article
by Catherine Chen
“there was a war and i slept through most of it. i sold buttons for buns. my older sister darned soldiers uniforms in search of a husband. soldiers were gainfully employed. most young men look good in uniform. one spring i rented a room in the working-class neighborhood behind the governors palace. everyday i leapt […]
