Poetry, Volume IX
Ars Poetica: Undressing Feathers
Molten Medium, Chloe Moulin To be a poet trying to write a poem, is trying to be as free as a naked chicken— you are undressing feathers with similes and…
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Poetry, Volume IXZodiac Year of the Lamb
Cotton Candy Woman, Kiara Florez Mother, in her slight accent, calls olives “Oliver.” She loves Oliver, brine salty in her mouth. Almost twenty-five years in America and she cannot differentiate…
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Poetry, Volume IXBased on Your Credit Score , You Qualify for the Following Subpar Human Abilities
I-70 Diner, Emma Lassiter Invisibility while screaming. Telepathy with those who secretly hate you. Future sight for spoilers. Time travel while experiencing diarrhea. Summon comfort bees when distressed. The ability to…
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Poetry, Volume IXYour Poems Don’t Have Heart
Monochrome, Emma Lassiter He pioneered the theory that if you hit a road sign with your car, it’s yours. Lifting 35 mph into the backseat, the sides were sharper than expected, …
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Poetry, Volume IXAfter Y. Murakami
A Clarifying Moment, Alyssa Noel Original Calm and serene The sound of a cicada Penetrates the rock. Translation Don’t matter how calm. A cicada’s mere sound could Defeat Dwayne Johnson. Omar…
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Poetry, Volume IXNeon is lighter than air
Dusk in the City of Angels, AJ Favorito I spend a cold summer searching …
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Poetry, Volume IXThe Boatman
Pink Creek, Louise Rossiter Winter ends, and the lake thaws: frostscape turned fairyland,flies flit through lilies, the surface serene. The boatmanunhitches his crafts at the coming of spring; the heat…
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Poetry, Volume IXOde to a Venn Diagram
How Long Will You Love Me, Eric Tran Where else can politicians And cannon balls meet Besides steely, destructive, And inappropriate for a wedding? About the Author Tanner Whitney · University…
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Poetry, Volume IXHow to Appreciate Films
Fever Dream, Emily Lawson Do not watch films only once or twice. Study them like that third trimester sonogram. Try to find the family nose. Watch film noir. Embrace the…
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Poetry, Volume IXThe Village That Raised Me
The Unexpected, Anasstassiya Selezneva It took a village. One house next to another, four in a row. Cousins and uncles on each end with grandparents in the middle. It took a…
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Poetry, Volume IXBurning Stranger
Untitled, Robert McGrady You, stranger, smell of rotting bananas but you smile like my mother after she covers the dining room table in candles and closes the lights. You stagger-step…
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Poetry, Volume IXThe Plains of Shinar
Haku, Anna Hiltner oh, but cain, i was never going to be what they prophesied i would become. this mud hardened into brick too soon and now columns lie prone …
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Poetry, Volume VIIIPapa Willow
Popcorn, Karlen Lambert On some nights the pasture and the prairie fire, red blooming, are still, standing straight, unbowed beneath the biggest moon, that downglows to the grasshusks, each of…
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Poetry, Volume VIIIWhalebone
Comfortable, Jihyea Jang By the time we’d uncovered the whalebone our legs were already thorned dusted, turning indigo with evening. The afternoon spent running through the eucalyptus that hung in…
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Poetry, Volume VIIITranquility
On the Edge of the Falls, Sarah Moore An Imagined Theater Scene 1. A woman glides into a bathtub of snow. As her body fills to brim she realizes it is…
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Poetry, Volume VIIILarger Half
facetime, Saber Paustian In ninth grade I made a list of oxymorons. Plastic glasses. Open secret. I reveled in the duality, like holding dark chocolate on my tongue to let…
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Poetry, Volume VIIIThe Smallest Hearts
Little Architect, Natasha Hirt I. Mouse You run from owls and coyotes, the rigorous bum-bum, bum-bum of the tiny bass drum rings through your marimba ribcage. Little rivers of blood and memories traveling,…
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Poetry, Volume VIIIToof
Portrait of a Friend, Noah Bavonese believing my mother’s language sane, I raise my hand. perch bluebird-shy on the edge of a desk too nice to ever feel like mine.…
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Poetry, Volume VIIICempasúchil
Moving Forward, Brittany Lenze Cempasúchil La boca de una niña llamada Flore se mantiene abierta por el Viento, o un tope de puerta. En el umbral ella observa Sonidos otoñales.…
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Poetry, Volume VIIIThe Millennial
Disrupted Cannon, Colleen Simmons One day we’ll have all of our memories Inscribed on rusty USBs. Our grandchildren can wear them on chains of silver and gold and remember we weren’t…
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Poetry, Volume VIIINegro Paranoia
Light and Dark, Grace Long I will be shot by this white man because I come into his store every day and disturb his displays. I am always fingering the…
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Poetry, Volume VIIIMary, the Magdalene
Geodess, Eric Fram On Tuesdays I am Mary, the Magdalene with wrinkled skirts and bruised vagina. I hide in The Tomb and hold onto things until they cut into my hands…