Paper Lanterns The self was invented after it was discovered that rocks plummet back to earth when tossed towards the sky, and that all laws are the same whether inside or out. But this is assuming that the self should be like a stone and not a bird or flower, a petal-light charm drifting casually […]Read more "Paper Lanterns"
Instructions for My Proper Burial When I die, don’t you dare put me in a box, And don’t you dare put me in a yard with other deadboxed. Don’t you dare. When I die, separate me into the humors. Sort me into my constructive pieces like the Egyptians did. Cut my feet at the ankles […]Read more "Instructions for My Proper Burial"
Delta Mouth Moon pull swift tide bringing arrowheads quiver dropped loosened skirt strings tight arm and notch to bow dead elks bloat in the shore foam Moon swift pushing so saturnine up a slick and bawdy ship hull up a sickly girl-thigh on a naked shoreline Moon full drip ink on a violet dry notches […]Read more "Delta Mouth"
Nature is Calling Grass of mysterious light, Do you become dry from lack of love? Nature has this bearing on all of us, Take out a white paper. Draw the red cardinal bird Singing wet songs for your neighbors. Purple lilacs left a trace of dry dirt But for once They were alive with love […]Read more "Nature is Calling"
Simone Liggins earned her MFA in Writing at the Jack Kerouac School of Disembodied Poetics of Naropa University. The foundation for her love of writing and literature was paved at an early age and blossomed during her teenage years through the kind of tortured freedom that only the ostracism of high school can grant a person. […]Read more "Dearest Gaia"
Lee Jaszlics is a technical writer and photographer living in Portland, Oregon. They share their life with a cat, two pet spiders and a dissecting microscope. Their work has never before been published. Out For the Season Winter left you breathless; fine frozen talc wrote a foreign alphabet across organs with classical names, and branching […]Read more "Out For the Season"
Maggie Hess was raised on a tobacco farm with a barn, a creek, and a beautiful view in Southwest Virginia until the age of four when she moved in to her family’s urban homestead in Bristol, Tennessee. Her poems have appeared in 20 publications ranging from Tule to Blue Fifth to Skyhorse. Maggie won the Leidig […]Read more "Heron Taking Off"
after Adrienne Rich fox danced between me and the very still water headed north past geese and white-beaked birds leaving V’s in the water, far from the cocker spaniel five minutes before or lighted towers brightening our left sides as we risky walked beneath darker skies, I felt the opaque absence of fear for her […]Read more "a standing still"
living so close to nature nature is forced to live too close to us barking, braying, biting animals on wheels endless animals — ourselves and others crushed beneath the treads in the desert, murderers steal her name slip into the crown of Isis, an empty throne a horned sun, a winged kite play-pretend at Calipha […]Read more "birding / breakage"
my cousin and I find the body of a bat on the ground near the old church demolition stones my cousin and I listen to a radio show about butchering We eat venison and white rice shrimp sautéed in so much butter The butcher reads a story she eats less meat The plane in the […]Read more "never never never"