Mourning and Highways | Amy Allison
"when you were tucked in your grave, / neat as a napkin in a lap, / all words soared off to / some shining tree, / bereaving me / now they’re transforming / into things that hurl by..."
Selected Poems | Noah Anthony Mezzacappa
"Says once she tripped that she was her own mother giving birth to herself. She was in labor for forty-eight hours and remembers every second of it: the bed of ice they laid her on as they tried to bring her fever down, the surgical lights spinning like saucers..."
Paper Trail | Jason Fraley
"I’m different than other babies. Their gemstone eyes, chubby everythings, innate ability to wiggle. Me? I’m one legal-sized sheet of paper, blue lines barely visible..."