Cole Nowicki
ward off the seize and strangle of an existential crisis
by getting some fresh air
Micki Blenkush
He kneels, scowling in the ferns,
inches away through glass. So focused on purpose
he doesn’t notice me standing on tiptoe
Rebecca Ruvinsky
to tell my love
we have rats in the attic. we,
as in, me and mine; he is
still hundreds of miles away,
Joshua Benjamin
The year is 2040. [Ever since the Great Terrible Thing that Came for Us All and Left Few Things Unobliterated and Few People Unmaimed, even the best calendars have been off by a few months, so it could still be 2039.]
Read MoreMrinal Pattanaik
i swallow the moon and it tastes like iron not honey: not
nearly as beautiful as i’d hoped, but i was curious and now
Read MorePatrick Moran
She could be moody & very particular
about visitors. Her horoscope, which
remained a mystery, kept us guessing,
Read MorePatrick Moran
Everything you couldn’t understand
made you more like your parents, but
not the ones who fed you & told you
to go to bed, the other ones who
Read MoreJosh Lefkowitz
I love the strip of skin between my lover’s thumb and index finger,
the way it loosens slightly as the years accumulate.
Read MoreNatalli Amato
Putting through the no-wake zone
I see a mom teach her boys how to hook a worm.
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