Martin Shapiro Hardtops sit sun-roasted in rowson a plain of asphalt: at its far end,a megachurch in session. My Ford Feo’s a.c. eats horsepower.Eliseo doesn’t sweat this jungle...
John Nieves When sleep slips and the walls slip and the newsof the day is about who has slipped out of selfand into numeration, into a graph of a graph, thisis how we lose our breath. We lose it...
Arnisha Royston i bought a gym membership. worked out on the same machine in the same corner everyday. there is a man that likes to workout two machines down from me. i thought about waving at him. i...
Jane Zwart Consider the forsythia. Considerthe child who jostles that basketof saffron antlers. Considerthe charm of goldfinchesblown from the bush, sparksfrom ember, and the lemonsucker the child...
Nikki Barnhart From our vantage point on the bleachers, we watched them. We sat shivering, frozen still, in polyblend short-shorts and tee-shirts knotted—coquettishly, we let ourselves believe—at...
Shay Swindlehurst 2022 Greg Grummer Poetry Contest Honorable Mention God had made for Adam a Jungle. The Gardens of Eden rioted, strived against Adam’s toil. Each day he cut the...
Jeff Whitney The name of the bag of sugar I carried around for two weeks in seventh grade because it was my baby. The stampede of cows my brother and I teased to chasing in New Mexico the year...
Lydia Golitz CORREGGIO was born in CORREGGIO and died in CORREGGIO. To his friends, he was known as CORREGGIO. He was a child who played with balls. He was a child who sat at dinner and...
Lydia Golitz Second Runner-up in the 2022 Greg Grummer Poetry Contest Here is my desperate garden, my lease of sand and gravel. Where Saint Catherine lies with her head off in the yellow...