Stacey Balkun even after the sun lifts & does its best to burn off the fog risen around our clearing it clings to the banks bruised by your hipbones by the hard ground still...
Bellee Jones-Pierce When your ex-fiancé calls you should be busy. Let him feel the lush delight of interrupting something. Have soapy hands, something risky and pungent...
Rachel RothenbergWinner of the 2023 Greg Grummer Poetry Prize Somerset County, Pennsylvania Half a cow is disappeared from the farm in Berlin, a two-ton Holstein, it makes the paper. Gone the...
Rebecca Faulkner I am trying to remember — corners of your newspaper curled in a November breeze, mothballs in your herringbone tweed. Stubborn grief, my coat pulled tight....
Adam Houle I swear I’ll leave your ass in Tennesseewith the trumpet vines and BarcaLoungersslumping under carports. Maybe at a BPnear the bottom of a hill, where a state roadcurves that way and a...
Laura Meyer We don’t talk about babies anymoreAnd we haven’t been drunk together in ten years. My friend tells me about a strategy for receiving long-term care in your home.I tell myself: You...
Kathryn Bratt-Pfotenhauer It is the season of thinning out the herd, and I am leaving Brooklyn. October is in the city: bright colorful leaves and a track fire on the J, stalling all trains.Over...
Michael Montlack and I learned there was no castto mend a spirit, no flashlightto guide you out of a cave that dark,my older sister unwilling to bathefor weeks, my parents unwillingto make her, her...
Cat Newton And Martin told Dan he was going to wear a top hat/ and Amaris told Alexa that she’d be in that knee length dress that has started to remind me of death/ and Reggie told me that he...
