POETRY

15 03, 2016

Jeremy Radin | Poetry

2018-11-25T03:40:19-04:00

I’ll be here / slipping on the peels / laughing / slipping on the peels / laughing / practicing for your arrival / a word about what you are afraid of / maybe / meet me here / I am so lonely

Jeremy Radin | Poetry2018-11-25T03:40:19-04:00
15 03, 2016

E.C. Belli | Two Poems

2018-12-27T02:04:18-04:00

FIELD GUIDE TO ONENESS It does not begin in an empty room, as one would expect. The field you are standing in does not look onto nothing. In fact, [...]

E.C. Belli | Two Poems2018-12-27T02:04:18-04:00
15 03, 2016

Chelsey Shannon | Poetry

2018-12-27T02:05:20-04:00

black medulla “I emulate the black which is a cry but which is not voluptuary like a warning, which has lines, cuts, drips, aspirates, trembles with horror, O black [...]

Chelsey Shannon | Poetry2018-12-27T02:05:20-04:00
11 02, 2016

Sarah Nichols | Poetry

2018-12-27T02:06:00-04:00

On Taking Up a Matryoshka Doll Collection All the people I am missing Are stacked matryoshka doll style inside you LOST: LAVENDER AT THE KITCHEN SINK. STEMS FRAYED. Everyone [...]

Sarah Nichols | Poetry2018-12-27T02:06:00-04:00
11 02, 2016

Tommy Pico | Poetry

2018-12-27T02:07:23-04:00

NATURE POEM from Nature Poem When a star dies, it becomes any number of things like a black hole, or a documentary. The early universe of our skin was [...]

Tommy Pico | Poetry2018-12-27T02:07:23-04:00
11 02, 2016

Stephon Lawrence | Poetry

2018-12-27T02:09:05-04:00

//a spooky mulder field day i want to meet these aliens. it’s strange that i haven’t. have they landed? i hear a balding man call this tiny woman an [...]

Stephon Lawrence | Poetry2018-12-27T02:09:05-04:00
11 02, 2016

Leslie Shipman | Poetry

2018-12-27T02:09:52-04:00

At the Sculpture Museum As a child my mother broke the soft wall of my face .....................................The curvilinear of my torn cheek .....................................the model of an arc .....................................floating beneath [...]

Leslie Shipman | Poetry2018-12-27T02:09:52-04:00
17 01, 2016

Jennifer Fitzgerald | Poetry

2018-12-27T02:12:30-04:00

Everglades in High Heat mangroves like finger bones dipping into tea stained water warped and bent gators are trained to follow the whirring fan so customers can snap photo [...]

Jennifer Fitzgerald | Poetry2018-12-27T02:12:30-04:00
17 01, 2016

Brooke Ellsworth | Poetry

2018-12-27T02:13:04-04:00

RED washing down decongestants with cold coffee reading ur glistening emails just a free-floaty fragment without a torso as if what I was possessed by was your missing arm [...]

Brooke Ellsworth | Poetry2018-12-27T02:13:04-04:00
17 01, 2016

Adrienne Raphel | Poetry

2018-12-27T02:13:49-04:00

THE RINGMASTER for CK Williams The ringmaster, gaunt in his overalls, seventeen feet tall with a cigarette, leans on the big top. The lions are early, the tamer, late. [...]

Adrienne Raphel | Poetry2018-12-27T02:13:49-04:00
17 01, 2016

Jake Skakun | Poetry

2018-12-27T02:14:37-04:00

Winter in the Wismar 1 Rain bloats the city, sets my marrow to wax. My neighbour's beard is stained an ochre O. I rarely leave. The shrill birds echo [...]

Jake Skakun | Poetry2018-12-27T02:14:37-04:00
17 01, 2016

Laura Villareal | Poetry

2018-12-27T02:15:12-04:00

SARDINE SPINE Never have I seen vertebrae so small, so white like a strand of pearls without luster, unclasped. The spine is tenuous, made for a touch more tender [...]

Laura Villareal | Poetry2018-12-27T02:15:12-04:00
16 12, 2015

Ashley Opheim | Poetry

2018-12-27T02:15:58-04:00

QUIET INDUSTRY I am sucking on pearls and roasting pears on my body. the vibrant splendour of lilac season is fleeting as a love affair leaves me lush and [...]

Ashley Opheim | Poetry2018-12-27T02:15:58-04:00
16 12, 2015

Kasia Juno | Poetry

2018-12-27T02:17:48-04:00

ON LEAVING BERLIN I sold all my books for a rock of butter and a glass of almond milk A rock and an almond traded for all those hours [...]

Kasia Juno | Poetry2018-12-27T02:17:48-04:00
16 12, 2015

Eva HD | Poetry

2018-12-27T02:18:32-04:00

LOGICAL POSITIVISM Oh, these gorgeous days, whatever's the opposite of pathetic fallacy. The glorious milkdrop sun; the walnut heart's rotten meat. . HERON If only I were a heron, [...]

Eva HD | Poetry2018-12-27T02:18:32-04:00
16 12, 2015

Ryann Stevenson | Poetry

2018-12-27T02:19:28-04:00

FUCKING DAFFODILS I turned off. Leaky spout my mind was. I turned off and kept the lights on while I slept. We fucked like deer in prairie grass: camouflaged, [...]

Ryann Stevenson | Poetry2018-12-27T02:19:28-04:00
16 12, 2015

Alysia Nicole Harris | Poetry

2018-12-27T02:20:53-04:00

CUPIO DISSOLVI a 30 ft. statue of the magyar riding horseback and my sister climbs it in a flimsy party dress panties showing hoists herself right up the tail [...]

Alysia Nicole Harris | Poetry2018-12-27T02:20:53-04:00
4 11, 2015

Erin Lyndal Martin | Poetry

2018-12-27T02:23:03-04:00

Fireflies of the Apocalypse It seems natural that I should want to keep my blood, want teeth and closed circles here in lakefront country. I step into the cool [...]

Erin Lyndal Martin | Poetry2018-12-27T02:23:03-04:00
4 11, 2015

Sara Ann Sütterlin | Poetry

2018-12-27T02:22:27-04:00

excerpt from Baveuse (2015), available at Electric Cereal WOMEN WRINKLE You have to be passive to wear Silk . Touching Louise Bourgeois’s spider sculpture was exciting, almost sexual. Ryan didn’t [...]

Sara Ann Sütterlin | Poetry2018-12-27T02:22:27-04:00
4 11, 2015

Owen Lucas | Poetry

2018-12-27T02:29:34-04:00

510 Permanence of five o'clock At the in-laws', tired Sunday, Where the light rams down Into soupy, roadside weed, Where the chickadees chatter about A sop of misty seed: [...]

Owen Lucas | Poetry2018-12-27T02:29:34-04:00
4 11, 2015

Lauren Winchester | Poetry

2018-12-27T02:30:09-04:00

CONTINUATION A trend of weather emerges: decomposition. The lake is frozen now, the fish strangled. Any weeds, any green there was, flattened by a cap of glass. The fallen [...]

Lauren Winchester | Poetry2018-12-27T02:30:09-04:00
1 10, 2015

Soren Stockman | Poetry

2018-12-27T02:31:43-04:00

Elephant Man: Dark Matter Joseph-called-John moves between the pillars on the stage to glimpse the pixies in the lights before him. He creeps close to them and asks every [...]

Soren Stockman | Poetry2018-12-27T02:31:43-04:00
1 10, 2015

Pui Ying Wong | Poetry

2018-12-27T02:32:48-04:00

SO GROUNDED For Irene Koronas I cling to objects, for example: a leather-bound book, almanacs, sprigs of dried mints. I would like to build a museum like Pamuk has [...]

Pui Ying Wong | Poetry2018-12-27T02:32:48-04:00
1 10, 2015

Lucian Mattison | Poetry

2018-12-27T02:33:40-04:00

SAND PIPERS Chuck clamshells at them for acting mindlessly, these little joggers in bird suits, talons tapping the glass tabletop of ocean spill. They chirp, bicycle miles of sine [...]

Lucian Mattison | Poetry2018-12-27T02:33:40-04:00
1 08, 2015

Lisa Hiton | Poetry

2018-11-25T02:21:43-04:00

MAHLER’S NINTH Gone, the pile of shut black mouths bowled in cold water. Gone the thyme and tang of shallot, as the garlic burns in the oil. They whir [...]

Lisa Hiton | Poetry2018-11-25T02:21:43-04:00
1 07, 2015

Gillian Sze | Poetry

2018-11-25T02:26:15-04:00

(A skilled calligrapher will tell you that they should “give the impression of a sail filled by the wind.” But a poor first stroke, and the others will “look like lost cotton wads tossed by the wind.”)

Gillian Sze | Poetry2018-11-25T02:26:15-04:00
1 05, 2015

Diana Khoi Nguyen | Poetry

2018-11-24T15:06:45-04:00

He is ryegrass. The voices of his heart like tensed wings; ripples in the serum of a stoppered vial. Death is the only word in any language sleeping won't spoil.

Diana Khoi Nguyen | Poetry2018-11-24T15:06:45-04:00
1 03, 2015

Jessica Scicchitano | Poetry

2018-10-22T15:20:09-04:00

Ladies, this license plate is your journal, an everlasting ticket up a Northern route where you’ll still have access to electroshock therapy through some faux forest in the middle of the US.

Jessica Scicchitano | Poetry2018-10-22T15:20:09-04:00
1 01, 2015

Monica McClure | Poetry

2018-11-03T00:33:49-04:00

TENDER DATA Inquiries feel like enemas What is it called when your fist blooms inside someone The civilization I live in has lost its purpose so I turn to [...]

Monica McClure | Poetry2018-11-03T00:33:49-04:00