Selected Prose Poems | Colleen S. Harris

"My room is rural dark, back field dark, so dark I can read by the wan glow cast from the kitchen light through the crack under my bedroom door, the same dim radiance as this unhurried burn of inflammation..."

I Give the Angel Chuck’s Watch, and He Recalls the First Night of Creation | Zachariah Claypole White

"We had no language, you understand, / only the possibility of it; / three strands of hibiscus arranged / left to right would mean grandmother; / it could also mean subway or wheelchair."

Getting Personal with Dr. Phil | Nadia Kalman

"Did you ever think you’d end up here / Those times you went on Oprah, talking tough / To teenage moms? You never quite became a star." Nadia Kalman is an NEA Literature grantee and the author of The Cosmopolitans (Livingston Press).

Call to Order | Heikki Huotari

"In the beginning not yet sacred all is apropos. As I traverse a simple closed curve counterclockwise the interior is always on the left. I'll gaze in wonder only at that which I've gazed in wonder at ten times before."

Selected Poems | Panika M. C. Dillon

"the Valkyries predicted we would crave quake, that the stars existed to shine down on our teeth embedded in sidewalks like ivory sequins / there’s a crack in the bruised sky of Ymir’s skull—that’s how the light invents Valaskjalf..."

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..."