Poetry, CNF, and Graphic Essays.

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Poetry

Gianna Russo

Somewhere Jazz Paris Street, Tampa Trumpet, trumpet flower, and the before —my body old already, but sparking. This was decades before the songs I thought sang Shadow Garden, the...

Ellen Stone

Today is the Sabbath of medicine We have gathered all the little pill bottlesin the sanctuary of the kitchen table,lined them up like good parishioners.Together...

William Kelley Woolfitt

Manzanar: Rough Work Owens Valley Despite the barbs, he thanks the cacti for their sour berries. His sweaty hand smears the letter from the city of vultures. Your boat...

Lisa Rhoades

The Words at Hand I want to write something exquisite and tender, but those are not the words at hand. The words at hand are mismatched socks,...

Dayna Patterson

One feels the need in the end for hundreds of daughters.—Carole Maso, AVA usque ad mala  Daughters to peel and cut the Winesaps, mind their slow...

Lisa Lopez-Smith

film reel Mom gifts me a copy of the disc, newly digitalized, and casually I slip it into the laptop. We laugh,  each reel spliced together awkwardly, a precious...

Lesley Wheeler

Feeling Good Maybe they get off that way, although the posture can’tresult in a baby panda: Mei Xiang flat as half-melted snowduring this one fertile...

Phyllis Klein

Snow Drifts Through the Living Room …you who must leave everythingthat you cannot controlIt begins with your familybut soon it comes round to your soul…Leonard...

Cynthia Atkins

Imaginary Friends With some reservation, you can swear off the clutch of voices, but remember to look both ways before crossing each soirée of memory— like the...

Jozelle Dyer

The Fisherman for Carl Ingram Dyer My Papa ate the eyes of the fish he caught in the Gulf of Paria when my Mama served them whole, suspended in...

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