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 Rob Simpson You can imagine what a group of sailors look like in the Bahamas after three weeks at sea. If you can’t, it looks like white skin turning red before your eyes and tan lines at right angles. It looks like beer spilling from solo cups, splashing poolside,…
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 Kathleen Katims I am shy. In my Brooklyn elementary school, it is painful for me to look in people’s eyes, to speak up, to say what I am thinking. In every encounter people tell me they can’t hear me and to speak louder. In sixth grade the teacher asks…
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 Vanessa Kristovich Three dollars. That is all I have left. After a long period of being disabled I have exhausted my savings, borrowed my 401(k), and have almost exhausted my disability benefit. I will get a check in about two weeks, but until then, this is it. I place…
by Richard Bentley You haven’t heard of me yet, but my name was once linked to a poet named Edward Starling. Starling gave me a brave name, some stanzas, and a few similes. Starling and I were ambitious. He wanted to be a famous poet, and I wanted to be…