by Rebecca Macijeski
Read More »You don’t need to invent a wild.
You are a wild.
Tag: literary magazine
After “Glitch” by Taylor Swift
by Kelli Lage
I think I’m stuck in an abyss, going mad
Eight years later, sun remiss, no spine in my back
And I’m not even damp, phantoms setting up camp
Blood brother diss
It must be how living bodies reminisce
I think I’m stuck in an abyss
your laugh is a cloud in the soil
by K.S. Baron
& together we grow the sun in our garden,
a light tended on vines that wrap
from my arms to yours because without you
i am only me—only half of the we that i love
2 poems
by Sigrid Kim
Tell me, what did you think of the garden? A forgotten mango, a pale musk-orangeRead More »
sun, an amoeba writhing in a pool of sweat–
All Seasons’ Children
by Shamik Banerjee
The child of Summer wears a crown
as bright the compass of the Sun;
whose joyful mood coruscates down
to lighten it on everyone.
Sestina for my grandmother
by Autumn Sharkey
Listen, there’s a sea in this shell
she said. This woman – my memory.
Beach stones shiver in the tide.
Small me waiting to hear
we look out over Portrush feeling
the sea-rhythm of the known.
6:56:46, Yeonhui-Dong
by Isabella Dunsby
you walk at an angle but you won’t let me
pull the left backpack strap
onto your shoulder, you let it hang.
Read More »Recommendations of the Month
Have you been at a loss of inspiration lately? Whatever our answer at some precise moment is, we are always looking for some more. So, we want to take our mission to keep wonder alive and kicking even further by starting a series of monthly recommendations.
To start it off, some more or less random finds which resonate like crazy with our own manifesto. So, if you are still not sure what we are doing and why, click on below.
Read More »Seedling
by Caycey Pound
Today I opened the earth. Rushed
scoops I shoveled innards
outward: a hole in-ground,
carved-out birthplace.
To see no more darkness,
I put you in no more than darkness:
I let dirt herd your blooming roots,
soil our worries away and leave
both of us warm, reaching for the sun.
3 poems
by Tanya Castro
Read More »There was something about creating at that age that felt like fear while feeling glorious.
The Amazine Community 