James Grinwis It is also about projection, how one puts what one wants, misses, and believes on a someone all at once, its crazy, like my name is crazy. What kind of a name is Grinwis? It is a good one, my friends, a good one. Look at the skylight on your doorknob, how it… More

Sister to Sister

Andrea Potos Rivalry is no word for this heart- stash, burglar–you broke into my mother, staking my space– then, riveting my father’s eyes away, though he left a shine, path of silvered dark I follow. Andrea Potos is the author of four poetry collections, most recently We Lit the Lamps Ourselves from Salmon Poetry in… More

Forms of Glue

James Grinwis A prompter and a promptress. A torn apart dress hanging on a limb in the wilderness. It is said we know more about Mars than about the sea. It is said there is a depth that is unknown, it is impossible to fully understand a person, so don’t try, unless you are some… More

Salting Our Hungers

Michael T. Young I have a sweet tooth but the other thirty-one are savory. So I sugar the moment but salt the day, as a precaution against the hundred ways the mind fails. It’s where time decays, trying to extract the details of how I ran through corn fields, outdistanced the farmer, the way stalks… More

Advice for Disposing of Regret

Stephen Siperstein Suggestion #1: Hide it Under the bed or in the closet Though you never know who will find it Smelling of wet dog. Suggestion #18: Burn it A swirl of smoke Ends with cardinal wings Blazing through pines, Then nothing. Suggestion #29: Sell it Good luck. Suggestion #45: Call the professionals Who will… More

Untitled Sequence

Simon Perchik Its arms still around her, this dirt clings between what’s left behind and the rain –-its stones stare back can’t make out the fingers nearby easily yours and with each handful something that is not her forehead just the over and over nearness you pull closer and with your mouth welcomes this dirt,… More

Kissing, Fire

Yvonne Zipter I. Our lips are so dry, she says, we could start a fire, kissing. Once, we were incendiary as match tips, any flick of skin on skin: a conflagration, a curtain of flame through which we saw the world. Something as coy as oxygen fed us, our bodies the proverbial two sticks rubbed… More


Hilary Sideris Could I labor better, repress my yes hiss in the power of a higher wage, a multitasking tongue, a sticky kiss in the Employees Only pantry over free cookies? Can you breathe life into me, mortal to whom I submit my report, by whom I’m blessed when I sneeze. Hilary Sideris holds an… More

South-Facing Window, Four A.M.

klipschutz Sirens advertise their right-of-way on empty streets, guards conjugate in workbooks, lobbies glisten. Glass shatters, voices carry, pressure drops. Entire buildings perfect the parlor trick of vanishing in fog. Found, they’re gone again, like that. And so are you. Finger moon deveins the dark as orbits cross. Not a hiccup, not a hitch, the… More

Approaching 50

Vievee Francis for J With our down-turned mouths, and trenches forming on each side, evidence of our disappointments. Look at the nests by the eyes, we were so easily amused, (what else was there to be), and nurtured (if reluctantly) those who insisted upon our goodness. Ah, morality. Did you buy it? I didn’t. Ethics,… More