Latest Writing
POETRY
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DEAR MISS GONE by Ben Purkert
I’m hardly alone— like most men, I’ll gaze at anything to avoid looking inward. Like a stream reflects what surrounds but never the face of itself. I mean force, I mean— forget it. Let’s cast ourselves into a pond: a still surface standing forever without a break. Let’s freeze at the tipping point when you…
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HOW I by Melissa Stein
Stupidly. Like a dog, like drought flood, like a vole the hawk lifts screaming to its first and last panoramic. Each want sired want and I was drowning in it— but kept my head just enough above the choking to choke more. A dog, I said, or rat pressing lever unto death. May we all…
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LAMBING by George Kalamaras
Time was too long each winter. Each spring death clung to our tongue. Just below it milled failure and success: lambing seasons that arrived to survive, the job that finally paid, the art of making love even when we felt less than whole…
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