We were wed by a snowman. One must have a mind of winter, I said. And a heart of glass, you sang. We drank icicles, got pretty crystallized. Walk in my footsteps, I slurred. That’s not where the heat is,
THINGS TO STOP ASKING GOD FOR by: Amaris Diaz
permission better hiding places why you didn’t drown or get pinned between two cars all those times you could have why rivers still look like so much heaven some days a man who can fix you, who knows the quiet
SUNSETS by: Courtney Marie
i am thinking of a color. it is not white or black. it is not the color of your eyes. i am thinking of the shade it makes in autumn, the sun shrinking days. the way the world stands on
THE JULES BUG by: Gregory Crosby
lives under polished rocks her regrets iridescent a buzzer no one can bear to answer eats nothing but hours burns fireflies at both ends turns ladybugs to tramps bites flailing arms flies through silver screens transparent flutters antennae like trigger-fingers
IN RETROSPECT by: Courtney Marie
his laughter was the kind that bit the throat, gently at first as delight can be a cruel disguise, turned inside out for the egotistical thrill. notice how the lips curl, the lion’s tooth a proud mean. search his eyes
THE LAST TIME THAT THE WORLD ENDED by: PW Covington
The last time that the world ended, I was there We rushed in like Angels They let me be an angel, the last time that the world ended. It was the worst storm, The strongest twister, The biggest fire, The
REPENT/NO CHURCH IN THE WILD by: Mozart Guerrier
Do you tattoo scripture on your tongue or stack each verse on the shelves of your spine? There’s a difference. At the bus station, a man carries a sign that reads: “The Kingdom is coming soon Repent.” Waiting not far
POEM by: Robert J. Ferrelli
She wasn’t surprised that morning by the stove, but circled, expecting I might creak the door towards her. Perhaps she’d crawl to wedge herself between the pots and lids for safety’s sake to hide there for its warmth She didn’t
FIRES OF YOUTH by: Anne Whitehouse
First we are children, experiencing life unfolding from within, events superseding one another, blotting out much of what went before, save for those eternal moments that remain in the adult mind years later, suspended like insects in amber, fixed outside
DAY IN MIDDLE SCHOOL by: Valentina Cano
Day in Middle School valentina cano She’s in a room with sightless walls. Papers whisper in the man’s hands, drowning her in questions that dangle like snapped necklaces. Her hands want to pry her knees open and let her curling