Poetry

Because of their format, several poems that appear in the current issue are included as pdfs. To read them, click on their titles below or on the right side of this page.

David Danoff

Assassin, saboteur
inside me, let me be
able to endure
what you do to me.

Elisabeth Murawski

They twirl and spin,
laughing, the almond trees
in blossom, her little one
humming a tune from Warsaw.

Justin Quinn

There are no clouds. Thunder out of nowhere.
The boar herd at a gallop through the woods.
Haunch to haunch twisting through the brush and weeds
like shoals through seas, like starlings through the air.

Rachel Trousdale

Just because it’s made doesn’t mean it’s anything
but natural. A thin line skirting the shore, no matter
how long, it appears tiny in the extent of
the ocean it inhabits, the water that is the only thing

Sara Wallace

I went to the stylist
and asked her to cut off my heart
so she palmed my skull
and firmly tipped my head down

Eamon Grennan

In the June breeze our sycamore casts flickering shadows

Catherine Stearns

If you mean like the toxic material
coming down from the high plateau
in dense clouds that will change
the earth forever, or like the dark matter

Charles Baudelaire
Translated by David Lehman

Le miroir

Un homme épouvantable entre et se regarde dans la glace.

Deborah Diemont

The front door opens to a faux wood floor.
Untie your shoes and leave them in the hall.

Debora Lidov

One drink in I asked my date about the ring:
copper, flat, snug band on his right-hand
fourth finger. He began to tell its secret.