by Elsa Nichols
Forgive me for growing silent.
I still care. I always cared. In fact,
I care too much.
Read More »by Elsa Nichols
Forgive me for growing silent.
I still care. I always cared. In fact,
I care too much.
Read More »by Felicia Tsao
Read More »an imperial reminder of revolutions to come and the ones that landed at their feet
by Mark Smeltzer
A wounded girl sneaks through the algorithm.
A bullet burrows under the root of her ponytail,
Copper tic swelling at the base of her skull.
A blue glove bears her arm to give or take fluids.
She faces, stony, away on a rare hospital bed.
by Jeffrey Zable
Of course we’re all in different stages of dying,
but it seems that those who are closest to it
are mostly the ones talking about it.
by Doug Raphael
There are days
Adam and I would walk
by the sawdust silt banks
of the Medway River,
to a patch of grass
by Debbi Voisey
I remember your feet coming from me; the first thing I saw. And your screams and your crumpled face.
A breech birth, and ever after, different to everyone.
Read More »by Scott Bethay
1.
Profane, breathless June
air thick with perfume
of cigarettes and makeup
by Margaret E. Gillio
After reading Jordan Salama and Adrienne Rich
See the dark trucks
across the street.
They encircle a man,
pin him down.
Draw the blinds, stop
answering the door.
We watch in a silence like a rushing river
where I drown. I fear this silence.
by E. L. McKee
Impossible to separate them;
like the grain of sand around which
a mirror-bright pearl is formed,
Read More »by H.T. Reynolds
A mother strokes her daughter’s hair,
carefully avoiding the ventilator tubing,
humming You Are My Sunshine through
tears and mechanical breathing