Poetry, CNF, and Graphic Essays.

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Poetry

Mary Julia Klimenko

This Fear I am the daughtermy mother neverwanted. Trust was an illusion,how the painting of a blue bowlisn’t a bowl of blue flowers.She twisted rags...

Cathy Barber

The Subject is love. The form is bulbous. There are echoes of horses,of cranes flying low,their throats’ rumbleas they land. There is panic spreadingas you age. There are echoes...

Jamie Cattanach

Penelope Walking down a riverbank, Seine or ThamesI stopped to sit in a wrought-iron wafflechair, the kind that leaves its imprint on your skin.Soon the...

Anna Leahy

My Grandmother's Body When the funeral director comes to retrieve my grandmother’s body, a nighttime response to my aunt’s inevitable call, he wears his funeral-director suit. He leaves the...

Yvonne Higgins Leach

My Roommate Quits College and Moves Back Home Out the dorm window I stare atthe mouth of Buick’s trunk largeas the far-off hills of her...

Ashley Inguanta

Dedication: To The One I Will Marry Not too long after you tell me about your mother--how she, at 7, lost her father in World...

Meg Stout

At the Annual Christmas Party, Grasping a Small Plate of Hors d'oeuvres Our skin sheds in the most inconvenient places. One moment, you are alone in...

Akiva Savett

Splinters Dad’s gonna boil a needle, poke your hand until it bleeds clean. Lisa asks if I want to count stars after dinner. I am bored with it because...

Cassandra de Alba

End Times Fatigue All anyone wants to read aboutis the apocalypse and I am sickof it already. AlreadyI am disinterestedin the things out of my...

Catharine Lucas

MORE I start the wash feed the dog clear the phone take in the mail But And Knowing I have left you there wanting more is a song writing itself in my smallest bones Catharine...

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