I would rather put a chainsaw to my legs Tips of branches turn yellow;needles float down as from heaven.My heaven is a redwood forest. I clear duff from the roof with a leaf blower,from the deck with a snow shovel,mounds upon mounds rumpling earthlike rough blankets and then always comes rain,a season of rot. Seems […]Read more "I would rather put a chainsaw to my legs"
The Secret Lives of Things I want to learn from slime molds How they take the shape Of tapioca or icicles or pretzels Pink toothpaste, brown cigars Sucking nutrients From rotting leaves and wood And then become blue crusts Yellow splotches, tawny curlicues And vanish. Their weird diversity and transience Speak to me of beauty […]Read more "The Secret Lives of Things"
An Animal or a God Paint glistens yellow in the night rain, dark Bacardi pours easy over ice. Like the ghostly colonials of Apocalypse Now— lost to France, dying in Vietnam, I’m stranded in this tiger wilderness. Half-awake, sleep leeched by dread sense, I avoid the sun, seal doors and blinds against mutations of neighbor […]Read more "An Animal or a God"
The Middle Verses the past bleeds, a black river the future stretches out, a winding sheet, and all that lies in the sun bears witness to the soft vowels of the earth the sky is a radiant flower a camellia rain falls like petals like broken bones chasms open mountains echo a lost word in […]Read more "The Middle Verses"
Eulogy, Old Pine This plank in my hand feels warm. My fingers, cold. I am alone in my wood shop with pieces of a working class tree who was sticky and rough, who could be prickly when pushed, who whistled, who drank only rain, who manufactured cones at prodigious rate, who sheltered the nesting owl, […]Read more "Eulogy, Old Pine"
Meridith Frazee lives in Charlottesville, Virginia. She enjoys reading and spending time outdoors. More of her work can be found in Crossroads VII or in her school’s literary magazine. how to wait for June, and happiness because she is so fragile wait for her with empty hands because she’s golden green grass delay your […]Read more "how to wait for June, and happiness"
Cameron Morse was diagnosed with a glioblastoma in 2014. With a 14.6 month life expectancy, he entered the Creative Writing Program at the University of Missouri—Kansas City and, in 2018, graduated with an M.F.A. His poems have been published in numerous magazines, including New Letters, Bridge Eight, Portland Review and South Dakota Review. His first poetry collection, Fall Risk, […]Read more "Yahweh"
Annie Blake is an Australian writer, thinker and researcher. She is a wife and mother of five children. She started school as an EAL student and was raised and, continues to live in a multicultural and industrial location in the West of Melbourne. Her main interests include psychoanalysis and metaphysics. She is currently focusing on in medias res […]Read more "When I Fly Without Balloons"
Mark Trechock writes from the Great Plains, southwestern North Dakota. He published his first poem in 1974 and took a 20-year hiatus from publishing, starting in 1995. He retired from a career in church and community organizing work and is writing again. Recent publications include Jonah Magazine, Southern Pacific Review, Triggerfish, the Ekphrastic Review, Radius, […]Read more "A Storm Approaching"
Eve Taft is a writer who lives in Minneapolis. She loves James Joyce, rainy days, and stories about magic. between the lake and the mountain for Doug Green when the wind comes, as it always does the old house shakes, shivers sheets of rain hurl against it unconcerned, the walls and windows settle looking over […]Read more "between the lake and the mountain"