by Abigail Warren After making pie crusts, and sabayon for the strawberries, I washed, dressed, and walked up to the top deck. You were falling overboard, with a shawl on your head. I waved from the deck, hands ice cold; what else could I do? But go down with the…
by Sanjeev Sethi Molasses mingle with soupcon of memory creating sweetmeat with your signature. My mirror notes the rufescent. I look for fleece. It teases me of the warmth in your woolens. Plastic is my way of bargaining with bridges that go nowhere. In this resume how do I wiretap…
by Alita Pirkopf In the clean, clean house, all the cleaning wiped away everything that touched me. No fingerprints on glass- topped tables or glass doors that slipped open and slid back. In a glass house almost without breathing, I watched my own master mother (who painted O’Keeffe animal skulls…
by Abigail Warren (After Corot’s Hagar in the Wilderness) Ish drives a cab down Eldridge Street and mutters under his breath as he passes the temple. He speaks to no one as they enter and exit his taxi. After work, he walks Hester and Orchard Street searches for half smoked…
by Alita Pirkopf The chrysanthemum blossoms, heavily weighted, barely visible in snow, remind me of castanets held at the end of green-sleeved, graceful arms. Hands, fingers, clashing, clicking hardwood held by silk cord—my father’s magic and manipulation, when I was young, and he brought gifts from Spain.
by Carl Auerbach I would like to write a poem, Fidel, that would serve your revolution, but I find myself unable. All that I can do, Fidel, is to write a poem about how I try to write a poem that would serve your revolution. In the first verse I…
by Catharine Lucas I move a vase from mantel to table; its cool weight clings to my hands. I practice seeing things in unfamiliar places—or nowhere at all. Is this one you’ll take away? I empty cupboards, six cans of chicken broth. Should probably keep these; might cook myself the…
by Don Mager Chunks crash from branches and sweat into the ground. Icicles drip until their hollowed fragility cracks and clatters to the sidewalk. From its cloudless tall Aegean sky, midmorning sun scans the wide expanse of thaw and wet. Only north side shadows of thick trunks lurk with small…
by Leisha Douglas of the parts is still parts unified in some other form. Within us, galaxies, though we prefer not to think of ourselves as metal, mineral, liquid. Cells renew every seven years, so you are not really who you were. You are always exchanging elements, always becoming. You…
by Justin Marrier I. Whatever the sex of the visage, Male and Female, Mother and Father, Son and Daughter. Do we cast these roles of life From the face alone? II. Fresh from the womb or elderly dilapidated, an age is untold behind this mask. The talons of Corvus dance…