An old man will watch us, openly / stare, two boys in a Nevada diner / leaning towards each other, a touch / too close.
Two Poems by Matti Powers
In a third smoke session of the night sort of way I ask him / what’s the worst thing he’s ever done. He searches me for the / fish hook, says he was unfaithful-a few times-to the first girl he / loved.
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Reductionism by Liz Harms
Any moment the doctor / will knock—the wait suspenseful, caught / breath before a jump scare.
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Taxidermy Lessons by Maren Loveland
Lay the snapping turtle’s corpse / on a swarming ant hill, // return to it after the flesh / is joyously devoured.
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Elegy for Aunt Kate by Nora Gupta
"The fear of Death was spoon-fed to me— / the drear of black velvet drapes // over glossy wood coffins, heartbeats swallowed / but never digested."
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Monologue for a Wild Sprouted Onion by Rita Mookerjee
"the curse of my child who you will/ bury shallow in the ground without/ a second thought"
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Two Poems by Joel Anthony Harris
"America has never been a racist country ……………………………………… 15%"
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Three Poems by Risë Kevalshar Collins
"don’t ya know i cried when you died / i say kinfolk you ain’t dead / in me you be alive awaitin ya second comin"
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Two Poems by Vikesh Kapoor
"I care to understand,/ upon the backs/ of mother’s hands/ who cradle the scars of eastern sunrise,/"
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A Normal Interview with Éric Morales-Franceschini by Victoria Monsivaiz
My poetry is indeed heavily indebted to my studies in history, psychoanalysis, political economy, and critical social theory; but I find that, at times, only via poetry can I adequately express the gravity and intricacy of not just a given fact, but what I should (like to) do in light of that fact.
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Missive for a Departed Soul by Haya Abu Nasser
"I wander among abandoned houses,/ asking beggars and passersby near the rubble/ if they caught sight of a stray wish meandering around."
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Laurels by Tara A. Elliott
"...arms now/ berry-covered branch/ —how awfully/ they must ache."
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Two Poems by Laura S. Marshall
"The doctors call me ugly,/ draw over my bone structure,/ trace the routes where the/ coral will fuse."
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Two Poems by Jane Zwart
"My dad is not making it up, but art cannot/ leave freak beauties be. He will have to add more—/ a plastic bag snagged on a sapling’s ankle—"
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Three Poems by Mykki Rios
"how do you play hand games with ghosts/ expect souls to hopscotch the river styx/ let favorite toys become grave markers"
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Reflection in the Waiting Room of the Dermatology Clinic by Lucas Jorgensen
"the only one/ whose shore has shifted, flesh expanding from one bone/ to the next. A jagged coast…"
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Three Poems by Andrea JurjeviC
“Don’t cut the tongue—torn
strips conform smoother to the mold.”
The Sick Diet by Aimee Nezhukumatathil
because you left a good-bye note written on paper made of mummies.
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The Last Kiss by Lawdenmarc Decamora
I stay alive though, sensing velocity
as an ambulance would in a dream—
brisk, accidental. Remember the first time
your little bones cried for milk?
Two Poems by Sher Ting Chim
Why is it
when we die,
We always remember most
the song from our childhood?