imagine me / as a landscape / without flight / i’d be drinking my own koolaid
Heavenly Bodies by Kendra Ferguson
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Magazine
She’s Against Thieving by L. Kiew
Through bamboo slats, the sun / bakes stripes on concrete. Next door / fruit bats sleep uneasily in the eaves.
Origins by Sandy Lubert
I come from an empty bottle. Not like a genie; more like a thick stench – the residual, acrid tang that lingers even after a bottle is dry.
I Lands by Alexis Keir
“He should be swinging in trees in the Congo.” I stood stock-still in my cottage perched on the edge of the Tasman Sea. Anger and shame burnt through me because of the views I had just heard broadcast on the radio that Sunday morning in 1996.
Space by Ely Percy
Wully McCoy wis greetin the day. His cousin’s girlfriend took an ecstasy up the dancin the other night an she went an died. Ah’ve never seen Wully greetin before.
A Wall by Saturday by Shirley Muir
I had forgotten the wiry, black-haired man with the craggy face etched by the Anatolian sun, and a scar across his right eyebrow. He built the wall, stone by stone, layer by layer, fast and fluid with cutter and trowel, cement and sand.
To Bring to Light by Searching by Jane Murray Bird
It was a Sunday afternoon and I was heavily pregnant when it crossed two lanes of traffic and ran straight at me. It was white and made the shape of Omega as it loped.
Go Ghosts by John Widdop
Loneliness lies screaming in his mother’s arms and / this is Łódź in the morning. / The city yawns and cracks her jaw
Shoot the Messengers; Burn the Witch by Christine Makepeace
Sylvie pressed her palms flat against her thighs. She pinned the gauzy floral fabric down and examined the shapes peeking between her spread fingers. She was older today than yesterday.
Like a Broken Cartoon by Jessica Pollard
Like a broken cartoon, / luscious bones the muscle queen / and the factory of my eyes / makes a gladness.