Poetry

Elana Bell Ruins As a child I loved to be found I slipped into the alley behind my house My mother called and called and I did not answer until I heard the net in her voice The ruins…

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Melissa Andrés Pressed in Silence My Mother’s arms became a shawl to keep us warm in our aloneness, her smell, not of flowers, but of smoke taped our past against the cold – She is the beauty inside us all…

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Anna V. Q. Ross Heaven Knows It’s like this—some days, you wake up and the light in the field is like swimming or moving through a clear fog, something that pushes back, not startling but steady pressure, the wall-to-wall of…

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Angelique Zobitz We manage limited resources against unlimited needs so we cleave to one another tight as wet clothes plastered to damp bodies we – open hydrants that lift one another off our feet choose belief in the enough soothe,…

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Mary Buchinger [selections from The Transformation of Material Things]a baby cries & I turn to see what’s the matter a woman robed in blue climbs steep cellar stairs emerges beside me into grey morning air the wailing baby cradled…

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Allison Blevins The Name in the Doorway My daughter waits in the doorway. She mouths Mom silently. My name floats from her mouth, hovers wordless above my body in bed. A blue and humming three-winged bird, my name waits…

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Tina Kelley Like You Are, for Me Pa, your binoculars make me bionic. They transport me to three feet away from the warblers invading the oak. I can see one’s breast expand as it starts to sing, its beak…

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Adina Kopinsky Adina Kopinsky is an emerging poet living in Israel with her husband and three sons. She has work published or forthcoming in Rust + Moth, SWWIM Every Day, and Glass: A Journal of Poetry,…

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Dayna Patterson Aunt Norma Aunt Norma is the tiniest silver spoon dipping into my little brother’s ear to fish out a golden bead. Aunt Norma is a crockpot of warm wax and strings for dipping candles. Aunt Norma is…

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Deborah Bacharach The Polyamorous Understand You Don’t Understand I wanted a husband. The pumpkin settles in by the dark door. She did not. I wanted a child, sideways teeth gone devil may care. She did not want one of her…

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Jennifer Givhan Jer Bear & the Magical Thinking that Keeps Me safe. Meow meow I’m a cow croons the child beanstalked each night til he’s taller than me & the two plus two equals blue two lines that never…

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Jacqueline Herranz Brooks Vedado, Ciudad de La Habana. Cuba. Junio, 2018 Poesía Repatriada (poema #1: silla) Y en la realidad de aquí, en la realidad de ahora, en la realidad desde donde escribo, ha empezado a amanecer. Y…

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