Category: Online Issue Pieces

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Amanda Nyren I’m at my desk one morning when he first reaches out. As a recruiter, out-of-the-blue messages from near-strangers are common on LinkedIn, but something about this one feels—I’m...

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New Theories About (Our Obsession with) the Moon

Katherine Huang Winner of the 2022 Greg Grummer Poetry Prize 1. In ancient times the two Moons agreed: one would stay in the sky,  while the other would go  to live on Earth among mortals. ...

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Misplaced Loyalties

Aisling Walsh My cervix has been weeping for longer than I know. The pearl-pink nub at the neck of my womb is marked by a lesion which releases a constant trickle of blood. The ulcer was first...

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Crepe Myrtles & All Those Other Blooming Trees

Hannah V. Warren 2022 Greg Grummer Poetry Prize First Runner Up when we find a river we rejoice                  as if we’ve never seen so...

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This Is Not The Essay I Meant To Write: On Writing Into Uncertainty

Megan Pillow Here’s a secret: every night when I go to sleep, I put my dog Lucy’s collar under my pillow. When I toss and turn, I hear the jingle of the tags. It was the sound of her in the...

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Self-Portrait as Illumination

Carolyn Oliver Sunset casts a madder wash across the last nun in the scriptorium, coats in rose her last psalm,  her quill from a river-plucked  swan. Near the margin, a gash—...

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Lori Arbel

Dragonfly Chakra Digital montage combined with mixed media Lori Arbel is an artist, creative life coach, and lightworker guiding young adults through personal journeys of self-discovery and, often,...

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The Shape of Grief

Alyssa Quinn In the doctor’s office, a woman describes the shape of her pain.  “There is a hard pillar inside of me,” she says. “Cylindrical. Metallic. It stretches from the pit of my...

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The Duck Walk

Erica Plouffe Lazure I am a known heretic in these parts because I mow the lawn on Sundays. I can feel my neighbor’s eyes on my back on the Lord’s Day as I maneuver through my special, signature...

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manifesto for the bones of a blue whale suspended from the ceiling

Kathryne David Gargano the boy says: devils cannot move human semen locally! he cries it in the streets, flogging his papers / so sensational, this boy— he forgets so earnestly the way women are...

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