On Losing It All

Having fingers guarantees
nothing, I found out.

It was in a cave near
Sils im Engadin that
I learned this,
the unflagging dark
a rocky womb open
as a way of closing in.

I pinch at the tiny rocks
on the ground for hours,
until going backwards

Read more "On Losing It All"

Bodies

after you cut
down the dead
trees
the field yawns
and gives for the first
time in twenty years
a glimpse
of red beyond the shuddering
loblollies—decaying
metal and wood teeth
the remains of man’s work

no life except
a gray body
shell of hollow skin

Read more "Bodies"

how i cried anyway

my father and i do not look alike
at first glance, but

we have the same scar on our chins
from falling off our bikes and

leaving a bit of ourselves behind,
red bifurcating again and again in the cement,

so strange to imagine how our skin
closed hastily, unevenly

(easing pain is not the same
as making smooth again). 

Read more "how i cried anyway"

a mi sheberach

for so long, i wanted to be pink,
like my tights, like the ribbons,
soft and satin. 
i wanted to fit just right,
like blush fastening itself to my cheeks
and forehead when it’s the middle of the night
and the sun still burns in the air,
like the last drops of afternoon sliding
off the clouds to follow it.
i wanted to be girl, to be sweet,
to be rose without thorns,
to be dress, to be pure. 
i resented red in all her brashness.

Read more "a mi sheberach"

Brother, Can You Spare The Time?

Brother, Can You Spare The Time? To be fully present for the sensation of a moment where you can discover what lies behind the human masquerade, and have the chance to make everything in your life new again. You’ll uncover grief, sorrow and passion in the sensing of the body armor. The tragic spiritual mediocrity […]

Read more "Brother, Can You Spare The Time?"

Night, Cyan

Night, Cyan Young woman, come and sit with us ghosts of wisdom on the veranda under the shelter of a night sky that is cyan and purple in color. Forget the shadows of his arms Instead feel the darkness of a summer night as crickets in their chorus begin to share with you all the […]

Read more "Night, Cyan"

Wakefruit

Edward Hemstreet is a surfacing artist from New Jersey, United States. His works are featured or forthcoming in Figroot Press, Into the Void Magazine, and The Gateway Review among others. When not writing, he may be found eating bushes of honeysuckle and drinking uncomfortable amounts of tea. Wakefruit A sweet ceremony, ) ) body filled ( ( with cherry stones, […]

Read more "Wakefruit"

The hand keeps turning

Thomas Fucaloro is the author of two books of poetry published by Three Rooms Press, most recently It Starts from the Belly and Blooms. The winner of a performance grant from the Staten Island Council of the Arts and the NYC Department of Cultural Affairs, he has been on five national slam teams. He holds an […]

Read more "The hand keeps turning"

On Paper

Holly Day has taught writing classes at the Loft Literary Center in Minneapolis, Minnesota since 2000. Her poetry has recently appeared in Tampa Review, SLAB, and Gargoyle. Her published books include Walking Twin Cities, Music Theory for Dummies, and Ugly Girl. On Paper 4, the tendons of the foot, sinew stretched taut as rubber bands, […]

Read more "On Paper"