Poetry

Waking Up into This Body by Dakota R. Garilli

The first thing I feel is the hair on my stomach dancing under my moving fingertips leading downward to the raised mound of my crotch. Half-sleeping half-waking I could be dreaming. I could pretend this vegetable tube the dimpled sack of balls are foreign to the land between my thighs. I could wish for the…

Advice To My Unborn Son by Ted Jonathan

if someone comes to you with the truth run brush with baking soda drink vodka straight kick low punch high floss floss floss find a job you don’t hate to deter a bully saw stickball bat in half hide in bushes flash attack mercilessly don’t worry pray same shit go to prom escort homeliest girl…

Swimming by Helen Spica

like this: we walked downstream   with water like cold breath in our boots   and the salmon around us throwing, fighting up   to drop their nets of marbles, clementine,   go dead and wash down, all flesh,   and we meet this way so often—   forgetting physics and improbabilities,   prayers for…

Once Upon A Time by Richard Carr

Plague city shut its gates to keep out or keep in   the dead magistrate bricked up in the portal   all the living pounding gavels to keep away the Devil   the operatic chaos of the chorus typical of the times

Story of My Name by Arhm Choi

I. 아름아, mom calls.   I’m talking to my partner on my mother’s couch, telling her the same things I’ve been saying all my life: Korean doesn’t have a ‘r’ sound, so it’s more like a ‘r d l’ all smushed together, not a roll like in Spanish.   I see this woman I love…

I by Changming Yuan

To begin with The hieroglyphical origin of My identity was simply no body But a common reed Bowing its head to the rising sun On the barren bank of the Nile   Slim, tall, hollow-hearted Standing against tropical heat Until one day “I” was used As a human symbol, an open vowel Referring to the…

Black Man in Paris by Erren Geraud Kelly

Riding the RER Watching the graffiti scream From ghetto buildings As I enter Paris A deaf mute running A hustle Gets no sympathy from The passengers Watching blacks speak French And wondering can color link Us into kinship? Eating a baguette at gare de lyon As beggars wear their hunger On their faces Smoking gauloises…

Splash by Terry Persun

Wine or water waits. The leaf floats like a flower in wind. Sunlight becomes red with envy. The stone threatens. Air coagulates into sound. It’s as though everything living stops.   There is no answer good enough. The mind is not like water or wine. Leaves are not flowers. No matter how yellow the sound,…

Upper and Lower Worlds by Terry Persun

The difference is slight. There are scratches at the door. Some animal scurries off as you turn, and it’s gone to hide just out of view, but you know it’s there waiting.   Turn around too often and you get lost in the browns, the fine line between worlds becomes sharp as glass, loud as…

Band-Aids and Rabbit Holes by Hillary Kobernick

In the end we die. In the meantime dust collects in corners. I offer the folds of my brain as burrows for snakes and rabbits. I keep Band-Aids in back pockets for when the disasters come. Reminders not everything is fixable.   I book hotel rooms and make the unfixable sleep with the already fixed.…

Ebony Body by Geraud Erren Kelly

She chills to pac p biggie bone Because black pride is a special thing And aping one’s culture Makes her feel less guilty about her Own She is rail thin stocky pleasantly Plump Around the middle sometimes Down home pale with freckles Rarely Hollywood tan Maybe New England alabaster Just enough accents around the breasts…

Placenta by Josette Akresh-Gonzales

I lie on my back on my sheets on my bed— the baby a regret, the pains a regret. What was full inside is now outside, on my breast. The baby slick with blood, the blood like a river, the fluid that circulates, carrying food and water and breath and bringing away waste from all…

As We Said, No Promises by Rane Arroyo

Juan Angel is jealous that I’m sleeping with a new trickster,                         but   JA and I will be buried together.   Others may join us in the only matrimonial bed legally allowed us.

If Basho Taught High School by James Dickson

* A girl with Chanel earrings asks me a question about Emerson.   * Test: the eraser ends of their pencils dance like little dervishes.   * The autistic kid finds God in the right angles of the hall’s lockers.   * A martyred French fry: foot-flattened and filthy on the lunchroom floor.   *…

Alive by Holly Day

they found her small body wired into the heart of the church, small LEDs sprouting through her skin blooming like tiny red flowers too far deep for sunlight to reach. she was sheared clean through to bone by claws big enough to belong to the God hanging over the spot her mangled body lay.  

Impossibleness of Abstract Representation by Holly Day

where are we now? one man asked we shone our flashlights around the cave saw only stone, tall ceilings, dark passages darting off in every direction. The map showed us which random tributary would take us back to sunlight, although it was hard to believe that we were somewhere on that flat piece of paper,…

The Catch by Judith Pulman

When you were ten you caught a fish and showed your parents that pink flesh. They whooped loud, mercury eyes! Silver guts! That day all guzzled more than enough. and that night, you grasped a new way to sit that made the family round and perfect. All your thoughts from that day on were mother,…