The Language of a Marriage

Laura Powers In my lap, The Awakening rests like a pretension. Lately, I’ve found myself going in envy of fiction—not as a poet, but as a woman living a linear life, as she must with no parrot screaming foreshadow in its raucous patois: Allez vous-en! Get Out! Sapristi! Goddamn it! No one is in danger… More


Perry Janes It’s as if everything is built to pull us forward towards an age we won’t remember the seasons. The geometry of late spring drones in my ears: honeycomb octagons, grass lines all pointed upwards. The water wheel I built cycles, unmoving, while I shoot blindly into the field with my cornstalk popgun to… More

Out Back at Sunset

Jeff Knorr The sun tails west and everything darkens in its path. I am reading about a storm in the Himalayas and listening to a little music outside. The dog has come to my feet, as if to remind me of my sins. But she gives me eyes that allow me to feel steady as… More

The Reality Show

James Cihlar Nervous and too public, Tillie smothers Emily with anxious love, shuffling her off to the convalescent home for teens at the bidding of the zeitgeist. I cannot become cold in front of the blackboard, my shins covered in sequins. When Maxine’s nameless aunt brought shame to the family through illegitimate pregnancy, the villagers… More


John Middlebrook Retracing my steps, I walk my life backwards, resisting the urge to grasp too soon. I recede all the way to where words were not heard, trading my refinements for the gifts of birth. Now moving forward, I see once more clouds on puddles dropped by the sky; shadows are sponges cast from… More


Carlos Hiraldo If time travel were possible, men from the future would be here tonight, shadowing our footsteps. Like squadron of Supermen guiding their Lois Lanes above the New York City night sky, they’d carry you and me and my dead parents to a Utopian future where death doesn’t end all arguments, disease has been… More


John Middlebrook When I return to my place, nothing has moved beneath the layers of dust. Everything’s intact as if I had planned how it should be found. The series of decisions we made together now leaves us, one by one, to grasp that our chances are as random as the wind chimes’ unrehearsed jangling… More