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From the Editor: Happy new decade! Our first work of 2020 is one that showcases just how much ground we can cover as literary citizens, writers and collaborators. Our contributors for this issue are from Miami and Seoul, are poetic icons and emerging voices. Take a moment to read to the contributors’ bios to get […]
Jan Beatty‘s work has been published in Poetry, Academy of American Poets Poem-a-Day, Best American Poetry, BuzzFeed, and Cherry Tree, with poems forthcoming in Pleiades and New England Review. My fifth book, Jackknife: New and Selected Poems, was published by the University of Pittsburgh Press and won the 2018 Paterson Prize. She recently won the […]
Please click below to open Bellows by Keith S. Wilson. This piece has formatting not permitted by our site design. Visual art by C. R. Resetarits
Collection Title: Catechesis: A Postpastoral Collection Author: Lindsay Lusby Reviewer: Lily Starr It is not often that I open a collection of poetry and am immediately stunned by vivid, color photos of flora, diagrams of human bones, a family of black and white sheep clustered together on the bottom of a page, or pink […]
I wasn’t homeless, just had my mattress in my ’69 Chevy, clothes underneath boxes in the trunk. Everyday stuff in the front-seat backpack. I moved 14 times that year, drinking and drugs but still working my waitress job. I was in motion. Driving, working, hoping to stay with a friend for a night, I was […]
Please click to open Double-Cut by Jan Beatty. This piece requires formatting not permitted by our site design. Visual art by Heidi McKye
I want you to see (me) Not past, nor through (me) Nor should you pretend (I look as you do) Nor will yourself into believing (I should) No, I want you to see (what’s here) I want your eyes to trace (the structure and dance of my lines the texture and humility their design) Heed […]
The air tastes of spoiled milk a day ago something that was safe to drink Its molecules lock onto my skin follow me back to my hotel climb into bed with me They resist hot showers and rainstorms I want to crawl away I want to live […]
I. Out there, on the farm, it couldn’t have mattered less. Not that I was the only human among the beasts, but I was the only one of my kind, and still, it never mattered. II. We were, every one of us, coupled or not, quite lonely, so we became a pack […]
In that wood they built their house. You can’t see the ocean but you can smell the tide. He remembers birch sap under his nails, and April’s light. Foundation, beams, paint. Maybe he wanted to be a painter once. Maybe he danced. Surely he stood in front of the mirror practicing his songs. This is […]
