Hay una constelación sobre sus sábanas enormes Suficientes para acoger un cadaver de gigante Alguien me dijo que No sabemos aquí, en occidente Lo que es un gigante Pero enseguida rió y de su boca salieron rosas, Llenas de espinas recorriendo los tallos, Para llegar a mis pies There is a constellation on … Continue reading
Category Archives: fall 2015
Blog Post / fall 2015 / Featured / Issues / Poetry / Poetry 2015 / Uncategorized / Volume 46
Voice from a Carrefour South of the Seine—Jeffrey Alfier
A man alone in a midnight tavern a hundred miles out of Paris thinks of a dancer in Carcassonne a Sunday stabbing in Place Pigalle hears wind gaining through the Marne the evening’s unmapped road of truant voices insomniacs and drunks pilfering their own sleep mandolins lighting ballads in unlit corners and his mother rising … Continue reading
Blog Post / fall 2015 / Featured / Issues / Poetry / Poetry 2015 / Spring 2015 / Uncategorized / Volume 46
Cava—Alexander Curren Stinton
So what is the antithesis of strawberry is not strawberry? I’m inclined to say it’s ash, if only to impress upon you the more practical theory of how a thing is often gotten at in getting at what it’s not. How you encouraged these bubbles to fettle my nose reciting the méthode … Continue reading
Blog Post / fall 2015 / Featured / Issues / Poetry / Poetry 2015 / Uncategorized
The Wound—Alexander Curren Stinton
That the tongue is often mistaken for the body’s strongest muscle is no surprise. I have a friend who might well heft to the tomb the weight of every word spoken to him. If pressed he might recast us to the womb, replay labor’s caterwaul, the intermittent intercom of mask-dappled voices. How the cava … Continue reading
Blog Post / fall 2015 / Featured / Issues / Poetry 2015 / Uncategorized
Thanks For Not Calling — Michael Salcman
You live in the city; in the snow outside paw-prints crisscross the lawn. You wonder if the other animals ever get lonely. Sometimes you feel like an Eskimo out on an ice floe caught without a fishing pole when it’s too cold to swim back. Art’s a type of entertainment, a diversion from … Continue reading
Blog Post / fall 2015 / Featured / Issues / Poetry 2015 / Uncategorized
When The Lights Go Out—Ron McFarland
Some days you let yourself think what it might be like, how you might just be standing there on the corner of Third and Main not thinking about anything in particular and you’d just keel over. Maybe there’d be just a split second of being dizzy, lightheaded, a sudden familiar fragrance, and that would be … Continue reading
fall 2015 / Issues / Poetry 2015 / Volume 46
Cats and Dogs — Tonja Robins
A blue whistling thrush swoops from behind Palavi’s kutir, Hindi for cabin, anytime we step out. We know of women from Kausani who carry large baskets of rice shoots on their heads, their bodies thin and straight as pines spread in these Himalayan foothills. They wear saris vermillion, turquoise, chartreuse or midnight blue as the … Continue reading
fall 2015 / Issues / Poetry / Poetry 2015 / Volume 46
Connected in Some Fragmented Way — Laura Coe Moore
No satined-ceiling basement room for me. Let my flesh be cleanly burned away, my bones returned to dust and ash. Swept from the retort, ground fine, shards of bone released from recognition. My artificial joints mourn magnetic removal. After all, they stepped in when movement was too painful for my body to bear. Though … Continue reading
fall 2015 / Issues / Poetry / Poetry 2015 / Volume 46
Habits — Parker Ethan Krall
Subdue me with robin’s egg glow blind me with the neverending scroll in the dark under my pillow monsters can’t find me here and maybe I’ll stop listening to whispers if I cram a fistful of guitars in my ear nevermind they come from my mind I can’t stuff a sock in my … Continue reading
fall 2015 / Poetry / Poetry 2015 / Volume 46
Choice — Lori Levy
You could wake up believing in chocolate chip trees and a hip hop god who directs your sheets to rap in the morning. Another day you might wake as a pimple— bloated, unwanted, ugly as pus— and feel everyone rush to cream you away. The sky might aim its crows at your head or vicious … Continue reading
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