Latest Writing
POETRY
-
THE PRINTER by Jenny Doughty
All day he labours, polishing the plate (small, nondescript, whose eyes illuminate his workman’s face), picks up the burin, starts to etch out in reverse all but the heart of what he sees, carves worlds in words, carves tigers, devils, chimney-sweeps and birds.
-
BURGESS FALLS, TENNESSEE by Owen Lewis
Where the waters cut the gorge cut strata of soft stone where granite resists and holds itself against the water where the waters drop in sheets across the rock steps then plunge in white cascades like moving ice the liquid of glacial rumbling froths and pounds stone a heavenly and timeless pressure
-
AS IF I WERE ANYTHING BEFORE by Damian Rogers
Not all rocks are alive. Or so I’ve read. Someone I love is struggling, her thoughts caught in a net.
FICTION
TRANSLATION
From the Archives
Join our mailing list
Receive new issues and featured work in your inbox.