/sarah a. etlinger

Sometimes you have to smoke things out. / Sometimes you have to kill something to see it up close.

/sera gamble

that fucking prayer for rest / didn’t work for either of us / instead I pull up flowers by the root

/gabriella graceffo

Sitting there on a fold out chair in New Orleans, I have never been kissed. I can feel how a fetus might sit inside me.

/cate mcgowan

If I resurface, disinter, / I have lived in this canvas, in this frightening frontier. / Nothing’s discouraged me.

/devon miller-duggan

The children,/ mine, wanted their feet splashing among waves. The man,/
mine, wanted to be succor, balm/

/nicole rollender

I wish for a vampire / killing kit / antique box / with a bronze / crucifix, holy water, a hammer / stakes / the face of my Lord /

/meghan sterling

How my throat / would cough up its need to the wind as I followed / winter’s trail

/carolyn supinka

Somewhere beneath the backyard, the earth unmasks,/ unmoors. Ocean-like and map-less. All location dissolved in light.

/kate sweeney

We unpack a bowl / of fruit, blistered tomato, / limes rotten from too much love. / I rescue the soap / from the yard.

/anna sverclova

I tell myself I am leaving & it is the smoke climbing headfirst out the window /