by Kerri Vasilakos Words turn diamonds in these volcanic bones. I wait for the eruption. My throat has been hollow for so long, that my blood began carving letters in my veins, bruising voice into my flesh. My body rebelled against my fear, took matters into its own hands, seduced…
by Kerri Vasilakos I felt the oceans rhythms and listened to the waves crash against the shore like a heartbeat, you didn’t know my body was part of the sand. I would hear your footsteps approaching and pray that you’d walk all over me. I was there for all your…
by Brian Reickert When I was thirty-one I learned the difference between casket dead and hospital dead. There was no composure, only a profusion of absence and that which accompanies it. My father’s eyes were wide and yellow, his face whiskered and sallow, lips cracked, swollen tongue, mouth agape. The…
by Kristal Peace What is the length ofHeartbreak? The colour ofDespair? I will tell you:The length of heartbreak is The story of the dayYou left me. The colour ofDespair is the pool of tearsDancing in my bewildered hands. And The sound of guilt,Does anyone knowHow decisive and sureThe sound of…
by Gwenn A. Nusbaum Bobbing, in the language of hunger, they hover over what isn’t given.
by James Croal Jackson My excuse for a poor score:the frisbee has teeth. And a mind.It chose to rebel inside the wind– I agree, of course, when you sayour food delivery job is temporary.We have hours before we need to clock in– an ordinary morningstraddling the Olentangy river.Any way to…
by Daria Smith Giraud You See, this trauma is branded, #BlackLivesMatter— co-opted, a corporation with corporate donations. Ablack girl like me, will never spend or touch.You do, however see and feel its binding residue its Black Magic Matter surging the well of tears frommy mothers’ mothers’ mothers’ injustice. Blood-borne lipsof little white…
By Scott Christopher Beebee how does one know theirheightened sexual proclivitiesin kindergarten?it is what happened tome but good luck gettinga straight answerfrom this bent,detoured, rattled& deveined source not only had i knownof my homosexualitybut the more importantpiece is my beinga transgender person before you go offthe rails by sayingthere’s no…
By Amy Covel I was moreconfidentwhenI knewnothingat all. NowI knoweverything,and IwishI didn’t.
By Caleb Coy “Why yes, I did read a poem to Nikki Giovanni,”I will say casually. “Two poems, actually.”Yes, me and thirty other peopleAt a Barnes and Noble poetry reading. Nikki begins, describing herselfAs the sacrificial lamb, the firstTo have one’s throat cut beforeAn audience hungry for placation. I go…