I Muse in Holy Week
by Mercedes Lawry
The heart is a broken record, a botched detour, a scallywag, a scab. Mourning does not
After Eden
by Daniel Bourne
Already in the drowned field they are fishing out
the last of the herd, white necks resting on the trunk
of the stunted mulberry they stood under during rains,
its red and black berries just inches from their lips
as if their appetites reached in that direction.
In life their flood went downward: into grass, the shear
of each green blade … Continue Reading ››
Anthophobia
by Bret Shepard
Because the car drives too fast into nothing
but horizon and other cars
look like flowers out of focus, broken alive
in fields. Because you can’t believe
how a bed oscillates between comfort
and suffocation by sheets. Because
flowers … Continue Reading ››
Gorgeous
by Kieron Walquist
after Ocean VuongI’m a buzz cut & braces, scarecrow-thin, ready for … Continue Reading ››