by Karen George Georgia O’Keeffe’s Red and Orange Streak, 1919 I.Against black skya red horizonwavy on toplike painted hillsin the distance A wide streak arcs a flameorange, yellow, olive-greenfrom earth to skyopposite of lightning A cloud, or is it smoke, hoversunder the slanted spanfeathered, hazya patch of moss II.Trajectory of a bulletblood vessel evisceratedflatline on […]
Tag: Poetry
by Karen George Georgia O’Keeffe’s Blue No. I, watercolor, 1916 Misshapen skulls float, wrinkly lobesof cortex, cerebellum cased within. Blue, pale to black–brain moods. A hundred-billioncreamy neurons flow. Two parallel structures jut–a ladder thrust diagonal, no rungs. My mother’s brainmisfires. A network of endlesspaths. No wonderwe sometimes get lost. Karen George, author of Swim Your […]
by Karen George Georgia O’Keeffe’s Blue No. II, watercolor, 1916 Two blue ears float in an off-white bath—echoes of each other. Lobes, royal blue bleeding to paler tones, hintsof muddy teal and sea green, smudged to imply muffled hearing.Sinister, to see ears unattached. Below, four parallel lines—diagonal slatherssame degression of blues, dark to light. Are […]
by Jenny Molberg Bitch Monitoring Your Phone I am a citizen detective. I am a sleuth.Now that I know where you are, I do not care. What shall I call my wave-colored moon?How will I occupy it? Where will I erect my flag? The blue tracker dot waits in the red traffic.Don’t come near me, […]
by Jenny Molberg You’re Just Like Everyone Else He’ll say anything He’ll make a steamboat of his mouthand out comes a sick green river You’re the only one You’re water and oar You’re windand undertow We’ll fuck until we fly You know what he’ll do You’re just like everyone elseHe only says this to you […]
by Jenny Molberg Evidence: She Said I wearchartreuse. Under-eye bags. People whisper.I heard she made it up. See me,then don’t. Jenny Molberg is the author of three poetry collections: Marvels of the Invisible (Tupelo Press, 2017), Refusal (LSU Press, 2020), and The Court of No Record (forthcoming from LSU Press, 2023). An NEA fellow, her […]
by Jenny Molberg Evidence: She Said The cops?When he chased medown an alley, they stoodblue, unmoved. He can spin a badge.Turn them. Jenny Molberg is the author of three poetry collections: Marvels of the Invisible (Tupelo Press, 2017), Refusal (LSU Press, 2020), and The Court of No Record (forthcoming from LSU Press, 2023). An NEA […]
by Jenny Molberg Redirect Examination by The Alpha’s Attorney The MeToo poem was shocking, was it not? This was her dogged power of persuasion and not your actions, correct? The accused has written a poem about your treatment of her, has she not? And the poem, though it does not name you, leads people to […]
by Jenny Molberg Evidence: He Said The beach.A dusk becameme. Next thing, a star fell.Her limbs and head its five points. Smallblack hole. Jenny Molberg is the author of three poetry collections: Marvels of the Invisible (Tupelo Press, 2017), Refusal (LSU Press, 2020), and The Court of No Record (forthcoming from LSU Press, 2023). An […]
by Jenny Molberg Statement of The Alpha’s Attorney I say unto thee, these women belong to a cult against men. For a whore is a deep ditch; and a strange woman is a narrow pit.[1] My client dreams of the respondents. They spew the blood spatter of men. They awaken my client. They unsettle my […]
by Jenny Molberg The Alpha’s Attorney: Opening Statement Briefly, your Honor. Thou shalt not bring the hire of a whore, or the price of a dog, into the house of God for any vow: for even both these are abomination unto the LORD thy God.[1] This is what the LORD says: In the place where […]
by Jenny Molberg Bridge Ann Bryan, 1911–1994. Murdered, St. James Place Retirement Community, Baton Rouge. The women take their places at the bridge table,this day without Ann. North, West, East. I study Ann’s black hair, a curled wreath, in the bookabout her killer. Her large glasses exalt the kind of eyes that speak. What right […]
by Jenny Molberg Shooting at Oakbrook Apartments My neighbor held a gun to his chestand with the other hand, his son, captive for being his son. The bulletpunctured the man, the window, then the air above my head as I peered over the fence.A bullet to the chest can miss the heart. Square in their […]
Categories
Praise for Catechesis: A Postpastoral
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 […]
Categories
Not Homeless, Just Moving by Jan Beatty
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 […]
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 […]
Categories
Entering the ICU by Jessica Dubey
 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               […]
Categories
The Father by Johnna St. Cyr
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 […]
Do everything you would do. Gone crazy in a fortune cookie. Every platitude held a poem. IÂ wrote what cannot be read. Oh you missed it, time. Whole nights. Still need yesterday and forgot where it aches. May keep it real. You may be raining all day. Most of the sights were silent…I sang for your […]
Categories
Leatherback by Kristin Entler
You are the only one of your kind who does not return home to nest, opting, instead, to venture wherever you feel like, beaching new pockets of earth. Maybe your instincts have misfired, a product of mutated genes gone wrong, your idea of home morphed, lost in the translation of generations. Maybe you are too […]
Tomorrow, I’ll plant your post-    sun, bury you in concrete cracks and unlit skies, praying— you’ll bloom still. If you grow, you’ll need    water, but I’ve only known streams of white and yellow, of blur— traffic. Somehow, everyone has a you, a parked    somewhere, a firefly […]
Categories
Navigation without Numbers by Roger Camp
My father taught me to read a map, unfolding its mysterious symbology. Pointing out its legend, starburst beacons became illuminated lighthouses, while colorless roads, unimproved like myself, awaited discovery. Cartographic contours provided relief to the eye, an aesthetic guide for mapping out a life. He noted that north was a spatial orientation that put one […]
I think about guilt, at twenty-three, watching you bang on our dealer’s windows at 4 AM because the baggie ran out. And how, who I’ve become—a Writing Instructor, a Cedar Lake kayaker, an appreciator of pre-war motorcycles—is crazy different. How the poignancy of Maggie Anderson pops like graffiti on fresh brick; Bazooka Joe in my […]
Categories
Summer Contest Issue Now Live
Summer’s growth…Autumn’s harvest! We’re happy to announce the winners of our summer contest – check them out below and click on the links to read their work. This was a special summer for us, as we tapped into our South Florida roots a little more and accepted poems written in English as well as Spanish. […]
Categories
Madre Hada
Ximena Gomez La casa estaba en silencio. El bombillo a punto de fundirse, Apenas iluminaba el corredor, La escalera al jardÃn. Por allà paseaba ella con el bastón. Ella decÃa que el corredor era Una calle con farolas Llenas de polillas. Bajo la luz mortecina se veÃa Pequeña y frágil. […]
Categories
Eating in a State of Flowers
Forester McClatchey Eating in the State of Flowers In Florida, the pigs eat escargot, the sluggish horses nibble Spanish Moss, the manatees hold feasts of watercress, and I can manage only dry Bordeaux before the steamed ricotta, basil, dough, and garlic of my favorite pizza place. I eat and watch the alligators pass along the […]
DOMINIQUE CHRISTINA is an award-winning poet, author, educator, and activist. She has authored four poetry collections: The Bones, The Breaking, The Balm: A Colored Girl’s Hymnal (2014), They Are All Me (2015), This Is Woman’s Work (2015), and her latest, Anarcha Speaks: A History in Poems (2018). She holds five national poetry slam titles in four years, including […]
Gulf Stream Magazine 