Poetry

Dealing Again

Shelby Schultz –after A. Van Jordan White wine, white teeth, white lie, two pair, flush cheeks. I deal with her knee grazing mine, hoping my diffraction smooths her brow, but nothing is easy except her raising and the bluff. So little pellucidity, so little ambiguity – she won’t whisper what cards she holds. What she… Read More Dealing Again

Me Want Mackerel

Tyler Shimada “Sometimes me think, what is friend? And then me say: a friend is someone to share last cookie with.” – Cookie Monster Me crave to eat a mackerel,but me don’t know find where?Me only know where cookie jar, but me no find it there. Me buy cookie at grocery store,is that where me should… Read More Me Want Mackerel

anchor in the mud

Noah Rabinovitch i want to write a poem about the everglades / where a gas station is a restaurant is a community center / where polyester clings too tight / where the body / sweating / rejects the place / learns to swim in its own brackish water / a professor during orientation week said… Read More anchor in the mud

Havoc is wreaking and my brain is in hell while the world laughs at me

Amy Shlyak Here it is, a short story of what once was. Nobody Asked for this but here it is anyway. A short while ago, a Very lovely girl lived with her One true love. They lived together in Complete harmony and loved each other like there was no tomorrow. In the midst of their… Read More Havoc is wreaking and my brain is in hell while the world laughs at me

Hyperboreal

Eleanor Colligan I wonder if we strive to own the ice- the earth in her deepest of slumbers. Glowing like iridescent bone under the tiny white pricks of the cosmos. No trees to whisper breathy secrets between rustling leaves. No violent green skies to overthrow brick foundation built upon ancient roots carrying the marks of… Read More Hyperboreal

Fluvius Dividit

Eleanor Colligan The dull thrum of the River Styx, with its violent apathy, more known for its desperate lust for human lovers, for human bones, riddled with memories, To read the years, the so many years that stack up like tally marks scratched onto a prison wall, like the growing number of rediscovered playthings, when… Read More Fluvius Dividit

We Swam in the Sun

Laurisa Sastoque Before, showerheads with their bashfulness fogged skin parabolas and body hair, when the sole curvature we had caressed was the dried shell of a half-gourd submerged in a tank of still water. We bathed with the same nonchalance of the creole dog— to intruders, beast, to siblings, guardian— who mounted both his paws… Read More We Swam in the Sun

The King of the Playground

Sara McCoy An army of dark freckles chose not to spare an inch of his pale face, Instead smothering his chin and cheeks, Encroaching upon his outer lip and brow, and even daring To invade the whites of one of his soft green eyes. Nevertheless, he was the king of the playground, And with curious… Read More The King of the Playground

Virtually Alone

Avriana Allen What feeling is worse than Zooming alone with friends who promised to call from home, but somehow forgot to tell you they were too busy to tell you they couldn’t be sure that they’d arrive exactly on time? You have to admit, it isn’t a crime to forget to say, or forget to… Read More Virtually Alone

Snowflakes

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