Our August issue features poems about places and experiences that make us question who we are. In “Days of a Thousand Weathers I: An
Along with two chameleons the pet shop owner sold my parents mealworms in a cardboard takeout box (the kind for extra rice or eggroll)
someday the whole of me will melt away like light November snowfall or perhaps explode like a home-made clusterbomb someday the parts of me
From where I sit I see the white steeple of the brown church where no one prays. Signs say, Save the heart of the