It's love in a silent spell/ tinkering in separate rooms
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Roadkill by Lisa Lopez Smith
...witnessing the necessary work / of decomposing, composting, nature cycling, / until one day...
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Two Poems by Collin Van Son
Ten degrees and it’s night, painted stars/ adorning my flask.
A Name Is a Haunting by Sage Ravenwood
The sound splices my lips in bitten denial
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A 360° Photograph of San Francisco’s Ocean Beach by Dimiter Kenarov
Giddy, I spin the landscape around myself until I feel again like a child.
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Two Poems by Leah Claire Kaminski
Now that I’ve stopped, I have more time to think about things like rocks, slightly less for thinking about self-loathing.
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Memory Like Form Filling Void by Eli Coyle
Where do things go when in their leaving, /when they're uprooted and carried/ somewhere else?
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Two Poems by Michael Battisto
I wear/ my drab green gown and listen/ to the insecurities of the nurses.
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Two Poems by Kathryne David Gargano
a trembling/ of finches, for example: flung down/ a coal mine/ if she returns to me/ i am safe to remain
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Body (mine) by Amanda Leahy
We supposed / you were / mute, or / dying. We threw you / to / wolves; / they / didn't want / you.
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Two Poems by E.C. Belli
Fog can be an atmospheric condition or / a type of bewilderment— / I am asked to think of ways / In which I can keep it / From settling
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Three Poems by Ceren Ege
My mother chose to place his lungs in rice long before the doctors decided to / tease the tumor. Let the grains pull
out the chicken stock from its veins long before she stopped / cooking. My father was a quiet man.
Spontaneous Abortion by Nancy Beauregard
shut / off the lights climb back / into bed place a pillow / under your knees ask / forgiveness
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Two Poems by Lily Rose Kosmicki
A satisfied end eludes me / The hysteria of locution becomes me / Charred brain crowded and crowned / with fleshy angles feeding / of the mouthparts, crazed
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Thera by Kristian Macaron
I know I am not empty -- life inside me / is grit and blood and a light buried in / sinew which has made me this star
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The Old Country by Michele Popadich
whole plums hang rotund from heavenly branches / puckered fruitless / bruised but beloved on the kitchen table /
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What They Say If You Lose a Child by Kate Stoltzfus
I remember the neighborhood shrieking in summer, / kids dripping popsicles the color of blood onto hot concrete / & wondering how his voice would cut the air / when I finally heard it. You can always have another
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Three Poems by Janice N. Harrington
I am grass and root and loam. A vole tunnels in my throat. / Field mice bed inside my womb. Hair, limbs, / fingers lengthen and rise, lengthen and slender into turkeyfoot / and stands of Indiangrass.
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Two Poems by Natalie Dunn
We would lie on her bed with our legs up on the white wall eating saltines / with butter while we made a list of everything we wanted. / Try to keep your hunger, someone said when she died in the summer. / I ate flour and bone. Measured the distance between two cups on the table.
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The Muse the World Forgot to Name by Mureall Hebert
She paints roses under heavy skies. Purple, / the color of bruised plums. The artistry is in knowing / her audience, their heart-beaten stutter riding / on airbrushed waves.
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