by Adeline Macdonald Clean steam iron the linen sheets, white and crisp and beautiful and without fault or fold White walls upon white walls with nothing to upset you or hurt you or make you cry or want to leave or want to think Do you love it? Is it…
by Jesse Breite God’s broken teeth spit out and tumbled from the bald peak, gurgled from earth’s hot belly. Pinnacle Mountain is the only peak I’ll always climb in silence. The congregation of lizards waits and listens to the shifting stems, the heart’s blossom,…