Zack Lux lives and writes in the San Francisco Bay Area. He enjoys nature, the Twilight Zone, and pizza, among other things. Adaptation I wait at the bottom of the ancient lake, when I sense movement, a disturbance. A series of pulsations thrum against my scales. Reflexively, I measure the peaks and valleys between each […]Read more "Adaptation"
Magicians Father raised bright tiger lilies and roses the color of the sunset, that slow, daily apocalypse. Trumpet vine and Copa de Oro, orange and gold as the wildfires that ate up our dry hills each Fall, when the wind began to howl and rattle our old wooden house. Some nights, we were a family […]Read more "Magicians"
The Darkening Summer’s fruit is rotting. I will use it to fertilize my seeds. When the world terrorizes me, I will hold up the mirror & ask: How do I terrorize myself? My path is strewn with bones. I will make a flute to play! Is magic, then, all in your head? wondered the initiate. […]Read more "The Darkening"
Mark Jackley‘s work has appeared in Fifth Wednesday, Sugar House Review, Natural Bridge and other journals. His new book of poems On the Edge of a Very Small Town is available for free via email request. Visitant is featuring a selection of poems from On the Edge of a Very Small Town. To a Dog Who […]Read more "To a Dog Who Sang the Blues When Left Alone at Days Inn"