Two Rivers

Daniel DeVaughn He built a frame of air, in air, and left behind the chimney-smoke rising to the Southern Cross, prayer-like, the tide roar breaking down-coast. The gulls’ cries faded as he sank into sleep, and in dream, another night, the Cahaba rose, banners of weed braiding round his body as he drifted over shoals… More

Smoldering Arizona

Keith S. Wilson her wasting away like sugar-water in the smile of my arms. make-believe carillons of nectarines and pears, strike like fireflies finding mecca. i wear her like a net of fog. arizona, we are gaping through your ribcage at the stars—at our backs the crinkling giraffe of a flaming trailer—and we sigh into… More

Tinder

Keith S. Wilson there is a moment in learning a language, love, when the translation becomes a burden. the word is not there, nor the symbol—the sheep nor the razor nor the solid color blue. the sense shoots to the heart, like hemlock or prayer, and you crackle open, compliant to the godhead, and there… More

They were selling phoenixes

Chen Chen in the form of untransformed ash. In the middle of a Costco in Connecticut, I said Gimme. You said, Let’s do the most New England thing we can think of. Let’s go sailing in khaki shorts. I’ll bring the chowder, you bring our phoenix. Our phoenix would increase productivity by fashioning a new… More

Elegy

Chen Chen My shoes were growing more powerful with each day. I walked in the country of letters, its fields of eyes belonging to my lost sister— dark eyes that early closed, or forgot to open. I have not been back in some time, though often I walk to my office, daydreaming of that country’s… More

West of Schenectady

Chen Chen The sun sets like a whispered regret behind the hills or is that a mountain. Moths come to the screen door as if that was what they were made for. Moth for screen door. & vice versa. I don’t have time for their secrets tonight. I am making my loneliness small. So small… More

Like Blood

Marc Petersen The real god doesn’t demand belief. He left us on dry land in a garden and asked us how we wanted to live. Once god was like a man. Now god is like an ocean. Calm from the shore– brown pelicans, sailboats large enough for meals at tables, a tanker transporting crude oil… More