by Bella Giammalvo
I am so many people and they all hold hands in ache.Read More »
Category: Poetry
Cheetah print coat
foraging.
by Tauwan Patterson
after Ross Gay
among the delights of his delight.
pecans. a memory unplugged via his:
a backyard in new orleans. a pecan tree
dropping its nuts. an invitation
Read More »The Sorites Paradox
by Lena Ho
If I take a grain of sand
And steal it from a heap
Away from a mountain
That hum the stars to sleep
Is it still a heap?
A Softer Kind of Audacity
by Jess Whetsel
I find myself shaking when I read the news these days.
My hands tremble as I take the world in, worst-first.
It feels like spoon-feeding myself toxic sludge.
It sits like a stone in my belly amongst the rising tides
of bile and acid. There is only so much I can stomach
before I have to lie down like a Victorian woman on a fainting sofa,
the back of one hand kissing my damp forehead,
the other arm lolling towards the floor like a corpse limb.
Dinner for Two
Tall Child
by Taya Wynn
Sometimes I still am the child who never cried:
both brand new and weary
screwing fists into white-knuckled pacifiers
seething with anger
before she could even comprehend what it was.
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