Poetry

Poetry
Writing by Lara Popovic

I dream I walk through a desert of stone. It once took months for letters to reach their recipients; packages of supplies to pass foreign customers – worlds gone by. Bananas were posted to prevent scurvy and luck-charms embroidered slowly.…

Poetry
Jacaranda by Kate Bolton Bonnici

Summer already and too hot, time for movement, blowing left or right even, if forward is too much to ask, hips shifting, knees flexed like basketball players, ankle-breakers, fast and then gone, a going somewhere, not just out, but an…

Poetry
And When You Came by L.B. Williams

Oblong in air catapulted into somersault You landed in arms ready to wash the blood from your journey. sniffing me furry without hair My voice no longer an echo. L. B. Williams is the author of the memoir, Letters to…

Poetry
My Father, In Hospital by Wendy Vardaman

The message comes toward the end of a long Saint Joan run, my daughter’s final performance in the title role— when we get back late that night the light on our machine flashes like a Broadway Marquee and my brother…

Poetry
Hand Line by Odarka Stockert

Fishing without a fishing pole is feeling vibration and tug is like playing a harp with the fingers rather than the nails feel the strings as they tighten, loosen feel the nibble at the other end and tug on the…

Poetry
Changing States by Margaret Houston

Life begins in water. Here, on the gravel beach, where the shifting tides rock clattering pebbles forward and back in their arms, and the murmuring sea whispers lullabies in our ears, I watched you. You were silver and grey like…

Poetry
Lost Things by Elsa Asher

Hand tempera paintings of New York City sewer systems, an unripe plum, mass of potential cells, bundled and bursting to expand, mitosis ready, to form organs and limbs. Paintings of flowers, and empty soil beds swollen breasts, remembering peri-bottles, the…

Poetry
Witness by Keisha-Gaye Anderson

Like the memory deepest hidden, it drives you The you you can’t put down make sleep smother under logic The pilot light inside burning away the shapes and masks that sell you this story– a spinning web of deja vus…

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