An MA from Kings College, London, Aparna Sanyal is a writer, theatre producer, and award- winning furniture designer. A popular Spoken Word poet, she performs at events across venues in India. Her page poetry has appeared or is forthcoming in literary journals such as Autumn Sky Poetry Daily, The Same, Leaves of Ink, Anapest—The Paragon Journal, […]Read more "Midnight In My Garden"
Lisa Lo Paro is a first-generation American who subsists on fantasy and folklore. Her interest in mythology and fairy tales has shaped her work and her worldview. She believes stories unite all of mankind in a shared need for understanding and a sense of immortality. She also loves dark chocolate and Instagram. I always lamented the […]Read more "The Sirens"
Irene Lee spent her childhood in the Hudson Valley and is instilled with the echo of woods and bound to the blueness of mountains even in the city. Her work aims to build strong and loving community through books, parties and education, from the most intimate form of connection as reading stories to the most […]Read more "The Old Garden"
Cameron Morse taught and studied in China. Diagnosed with a brain tumor in 2014, he is currently a third-year MFA candidate at UMKC and lives with his wife, Lili, in Blue Springs, Missouri. His poems have been or will be published in over 50 different magazines, including New Letters, pamplemousse, Fourth & Sycamore and TYPO. […]Read more "Working In Mother’s Garden"
Bests. Worsts. Most Deplorable. Extinctions. Revenant Appearances. Dead Writers. Dead Actors. The Heart Broken. Ten Angels. Superimposed a grocery list on scratch paper scribbles prawns, bubbly drinks, Cascadia blue cheese, rice crackers, ground coffee and chocolate-covered cherries. You add caramels. Unwritten, days the pumpkins swelled. Again we had too many green beans, a little terrier […]Read more "End of Year Lists – 2016"
There is nothing more exciting, I think, than poring over a seed catalog. The names. The pictures. The hot pink flowers and bulging green squash, the Borlotti speckled beans and Corno di Toro red bells. I buy plants for the way they sound. I see “Early Moon Beam Pastèque” and I hardly need to know it’s […]Read more "Odd Jobs: The French Garden"
“I’m sad,” I tell her, looking for analog in a world of constant digital connection. “I know,” she said, “you used to write great letters, too, and you know a lot of people, but you just need your roots.” “Go outside and listen,” my mother advises. Outside, I see all the life looking for hands, all the […]Read more "go outside and listen"
PLANTS. PLANTS PLANTS PLANTS PLANTS. Eric is probably getting sick of plants. I took over our kitchen table and a red Ikea shelf next to it with starts. This is the first year I’ve invested in seeds, and proper seed-starting soil, and trays. I have my own yard that gets sun. I began with a […]Read more "Starting the Garden"
As a young woman, my mother’s long auburn hair
swept the back of her thighs
and the wind pulled it behind her
like the dark, red scream
of a horse’s mane.