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VOLUME IIWatersheds and Lions’ Dens
Sufi, Tamara Turk In the desert we speak of aquifers, how they are the spaces between things, how they hold water to quench thousands. All the cracks…
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VOLUME IIBuzz Cut Before Afghanistan
Untitled, Kristen Prosen I. Two months before you leave in a Chicago gas station, you flash your brother’s ID and buy a twelve pack of Budweiser. Tins of…
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VOLUME IIAberdeen Farm, A Crossing
Infinity, Michael Chilcote I. Pick some fruit, bruised purple. We did not plant this tree. So we walked, so we stand, lakeside. The grey dock. Wind…
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VOLUME IIXixtaberri
Untitled, Andrea De Sa To protect a vegetable garden from rabbits you must lay the chicken wire twenty-five centimeters into the soil. They can’t dig that deep. Eighteen meters…
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VOLUME IISeptember-Cleburne, Texas
Gas Pump, Casey Eisenreich Granny squints yonder on her sun flower field ’cause it’s the closest thing she’s got to roses. She named the Sycamore tree—the one that grips…
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VOLUME IILetters to Anya, Fall 2009
Birthday, Lani DePonte Anya, the temperature is dropping, and we’re not doing very well. At night we eat dinner in the cafeteria, and our friends watch every bite…
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VOLUME IITo Where Shadows Dance Inside Us
Cast Iron Gut, Grace Weaver A fiction-critique of prose-poetry She will skip stones across this still water where I once tried to drown the jealous burning in…
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VOLUME IIGauche Chemistry
The Lion Hunt, Lex Brown I’m in the commode with all the other swinging dicks, and the drunkards queuing behind me, and the Global-Industrial-Dyson-Metallic-Silver-Airblade-Rapid-Hygienic-Digital-Motorized-Drying machines that sound like…
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VOLUME IIProjecting
Sag, Marlies Staples Jane is still mad that I killed the dog last year. My sister can be impossible in this way, and in many others. She won’t believe…
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VOLUME IIThose Dogs
Big Dave’s Meat Market, Lee Kraft Based on Ben Folds’ and Nick Hornby’s “Your Dogs” from Lonely Avenue With a house that looks like this, at that price, we knew there had…
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VOLUME IITo Keep Bees
Garden Walls, Sujin Lim I think I’d like to keep bees— however much bees can be ‘kept.’ Like a kept woman maybe they could bring a sweet sharp pleasure…
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VOLUME IIMan on a Hunt
The Game, Jonathan Agee All dirt trail and fish boot, straw in the lips, denim and oxcart, wrangler fish strung on a hook line, takes me by the…
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VOLUME IIOctober Grove
Fish, Emma Conlon Tasmanian bluegums molt, peeling back from their trunk-bones, calcifying up from the soil. To the west, the creek spits and slaps. Sand on a…
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VOLUME IISea Burial
Solitude, Melissa Ergo I scribble a poem on torn sailcloth— The calm, cool face of the sea asked me for a kiss— then leap from the windward bulwarks…
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VOLUME IIFor the Anniversary of Father’s Death
Untitled #6, Rebecca Jones Mother, my sun-dried tomato, it’s Sunday, let us wake up and plant crocus bulbs in the frosted soil. You have stopped growing altogether. Every…
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VOLUME II[open ocean falls]
Ocean View Drive, Rebekah Chamberlain Open ocean falls closing into white past dark blue where bound, in sand, in sun, blood, we lie unopened: five years …