Susan Grimm How does the body signal its willingness. The returnof muscle swing, the wherewithal for almost bounce. Stomp. Stomp. Stomp. Stretching the inside stufflike a rusting cord. Full weight on...
Kameryn Carter I say Jesus wept in placeof weeping. I say, I wasborn submerged. Proposition:wilted salad in a bag. Corollary:ain’t’a that good news? Today I farewelled my deadin the drive-thru...
John McCarthy When we get home from working long days, we know there are longer days ahead that do not love us. The white salt-streaks following us home in the...
Matthew Tuckner Instead of dying, I decided to rename the birds.Outside my window is the yellow-throatedme-in-me. Holding its wing in my hand, at a rightangle, it looks small, smaller than the radial...
Stephen Tuttle On the fourth night, Samson woke to remember he had no hair and had no eyes. He had dreamed of angels plaiting his locks into seven cords that reached a golden city and brought it...
Michael Fulop There is so much green in the summer.It is like a book with green pages.And on the pages a script of green writing.The words at first are difficult to make out. But then you see.The...
Gustav Parker Hibbett Greg Grummer Poetry Contest Runner Up, 2020 Center-right: wings invisible, pinned like buttoned fronts of jackets around a rigid waxdrop body; small-clawed feet fixed or glued...
Jake Bauer Greg Grummer Poetry Contest Winner 2020 I’d been all morningtrying to fix thisdamn thing. I was aimingto finally nail downthe symbolic.The field by the airportwalked right into...
Jennie Malboeuf The four corners of my eyeline are rich with distraction. An aquarium, a library, a fun park, a creek. In this scene, a shrike crosses the sky, spears a frog on some barb for later....
