Phoebe’s first issue, published in 1972, opens with a poem by Mary Anna Dunn titled, “Firstborn, or the Table,” which stamps the page with the birth, on said table, of “a child’s bloody...
Richard Shannon heart deep in hunger an aged leopard, haunted by the fear it sowed in its prey,sun weary, reclines on the river’s edge moonlight wreathes his heart with the golden image...
Mary Anna Dunn My heels are strapped in etherized stirrupsand my feelings float around —while a dilated moon brings the high tidecrashing to shore andback out again, I hear scissors cut...
Brendan Egan The pharmaceutical cocktail necessary for lethal injection being unavailable, the State had determined, pursuant to sentencing matrices, XXXXXXXXXXX should be executed by a firing squad...
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...
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...
Sneha Subramanian Kanta Every journey is a prayer. A pelagic traditionfor the traveler. The wing-field inside a cloud. Ghosts paddle in sphagnum. Fire between sunand hill. Grasslands in the afterglow...
