Issue 4
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E. Shack, Aubade
Elizabeth Shack Aubade Walk up the worn stone stepsbetween pecan and redbud.Among ferns, dance.Bend back, face to sky.Greet the new sun.In fog or cloudy aftermath of storm,on grass littered with leaves,give thanks for the newworld of stone, rain,greenlight. Elizabeth Shack lives in central Illinois with her spouse, cat, and an expanding collection of art supplies…
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S. Lang, Prescribed Burn
Susanna Lang Prescribed Burn A fire goes before us. —Yves Bonnefoy Workers in fluorescent suits, helmeted, faceless, carry wands with fire at their tips. Flames run up the spiral path to the summit, leaving a trail of ash. Rivulets of smoke twist over the dark river— serpent mound burningTwo days later, the air is still…
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A. Careaga, Spindled
Andrew Careaga Spindled We knew exactly what the words do not fold meant. We’d been folding stuff since kindergarten, when we creased construction paper and cut them into paper snowflakes to tape on our classroom walls. My older brother was the master folder of our family. He got into origami, folded thick colored paper into…
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K. Watt, Grandmother
Kelly Watt Grandmother She lies in bed, sick with night sweats and shivers, aching joints. Strange premonition of something not right. Incessant rain the crops have withered and died. The fire crackles like a living thing, rearranging itself. Grandmother tiptoes across the wooden floor on cold bare feet to coax the fire. Returns to the…
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A. Burris, Egyptian
Allison Burris Egyptian Pet Cemetery An excavation of pets preserved in the desert. 536 cats, 32 dogs,15 monkeys, a fox, and a falcon.Not mummified, but precious losswrapped in blankets, palm leaves. Some were toothless old seniors wearing beaded collars, cared forbeyond the life of their teeth.Somehow, it’s easier to imaginethe sun-warmed life of a happy…
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E. Murphy, Goodnight
Erin Murphy Goodnight Mood The night has monsters under the monsters, cobwebs of clotted logic, jostled thoughts, jostled gods. In this rough translation of day, the darkest sparks come from shadows in your throat. No matter what the poets say: the glass of milk is dim and resin-thick. The shiver of history shrinks to the…
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K. McDonald, Mission
Kindra McDonald Mission I dream this month of Artemisof hunting and the wild animalsthat leave their trails across the grassat night. Some mornings, my pillow is dampfrom tears or paw prints. I imagine soon a rocket bearing the goddess’ name will circlethe moon searching for Orion in its orbit, searchingfor a way to Mars, as…
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P. Hostovsky, Tiny House
Paul Hostovsky Tiny House It feels so goodto throw stuff out,toss what’s unneeded,which is just abouteverything, as it turns out,declutter the rooms,consolidate the stanzas into one tiny poem all about spaciousness. Paul Hostovsky’s poems and essays appear widely online and in print. He has won a Pushcart Prize, two Best of the Net Awards, the…
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L. Collins, 5 Easy Steps
Lorraine Collins 5 Easy Steps to Construct a Two-Person Hammock 1. Lay out your parts.Here we go Annie! You click on the YouTube video; you hate written instructions. Actually, I realise, you hate reading. And I wish you’d call me Annabel.2. Attach crossbar into base legs.C’mon babe, our first joint purchase, we’re officially an item!…
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T.R. Poulson, Windsurfing
T.R. Poulson Windsurfing Freestyle at Sherman Island The way the wind takes the ebb like a loverto build ramps for jumping on starboard tack,where I can’t stop tumbling hard, cold. The othersfly, spin, plane away. I try until I make an upwind three-sixty. Here, in the waterno other world exists. No mortgage circlingfast before a…