Tag: poetry

Carmelita by Alison Hazle

I am writing to ask if you’d like to dance again in the kitchen. I have never been much for a phone call, as you know. I was thinking I could bring boas and peacock flumes for our shoulders and the waists of our pants. All the times you’ve tried to teach me the Charleston  Read More

Ode to James Harden’s Beard by Joshua Nguyen

Let’s speak of the grizzly bear in the middle of the room. Thick black rambutan branches dripping citrus under the sun. What extra powers are suppressed beneath? Lulling opponents to sleep with each bend against the wind. Hope is lost if you stare directly into the void because by then, arms will outstretch to consume Read More

What Evan Nicholls Can Do In His White Ford Ranger Pick-Up by Evan Nicholls

One: Evan Nicholls can live in it. He can wave to an orgy of cows under the field oak. Nod to the bull on the hill. Sleep back in the steel bed, by nobody or somebody.     Two: Evan Nicholls can kill in it. Probably on accident, a person or himself. The mathematics of Read More

Froth by Trevor Plate

                                          *   Not the first time I loved you, just the first time I met you. Your breath like dead fish pickled in your alcoholism. Your knuckles raw from beating someone up the night Read More

A Soft Splendor by A.M. Kennedy

Melt the gold between your palms and smear it on everything you love: your hips, your lips, the soles of your feet. This month I am sick of sand and sun and callouses; in my dreams I am new skin, tender and thin. The fluttering of my heartbeat rises in every place my angles meet, Read More

[I could paint some surreal image] by Alison Hazle

I could paint some surreal imageof this room—how the sun latchesto my back on the walk inside, how I screw itinto the lamp and how it sproutsthe seeds I scattered across the floor. I could say it stays thereand keeps this room warm. I could say it lives there       until the ceiling tiles partto reveal Read More

What Am I If I Am Not by Micaela Walley

What am I if I am not a girl? The pulpy body of a dead sea mollusk, dissolving?             Am I crunchy?                           The shell it left behind,                       Read More

[After my husband died, I did not] by Tim Neil

After my husband died, I did noteat anything for two days. Hunger felt familiar after years of marriage to an echo. On the third day, I just wanted to make a simple meal. I had no pasta, no fine bread,just American cheese, a garlic clove, and one fucking egg. He had left itfor me, along Read More

Zion in El Salvador by Emely Rodriguez

Abuelita wraps me up in tamalitos, so warm,But she cools me down with Fresa Tropical, ahCanciones de mariachi cry in the background, and weDance like we’re wearing clothes made of cucarachas Executing imprecise movements like forced twitchesFixating, fixating, fixating, on las guitarras Gently strummed, unlike the singers’ vocal chords Harsh, hoarse, heartfelt vibrations that tingle Read More

“Aria” by Sam Regal

Sometimes I’m shopping online, which is something I love to do, shop online, as every store is a new puzzle to solve, like, which clothes would I buy if I shopped here, and sometimes I end up buying the clothes, so I guess you could say it’s very meta and works on a few levels, Read More

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