after Elizabeth Kolbertβs book: The Sixth Extinction My heart is a boomtown. A lagoon. A stuffed pigeon sitting on the white picket fence of a country in denial. My heart…
When I was a weight my mother carried in her, she walked the streets in protest of her country committing massacre in the Bosnian war. My mother says: βI do…
Twenty boys at the gate, ready to steal, Pour fuel on the tire and light the flameβ Weβll guard our homes; we donβt care who we kill. Red eyes and…
after a painting by NathalieΒ Magniez It would be the constants that formed him once: The clean-shaven chin, the double-knotted tie, the tucked-in shirt, the upright stance, the gaze that hit…
as an adult, she tells me my favorite family recipe came from their childhood maid, shows me the picture, excitedly. Here we are, the four of us. Growing up, dad…
Header photograph Β© Shayna Bruce.
Iβm so lit & by that, I donβt mean Iβm on fire. I mean Iβm still breathing. I mean my body has not shed light & colour. I have survived…
With each oyster-like gob that comes de profundis, with phlegm that coats the side of my hatchback, I feel disdain, but for life now. I sneer and smoke like a…
big bang! matter is never ruined & when you have a body as old as the universe you should know there is nothing you can help with silence. even sharp…
Header photograph Β© Martins Deep.
Header photograph Β© Hananah Zaheer.
He penciled my face, the bones of a wounded fawn, a replica of a photo from our first morning together, bed-headed and crusty-eyed. I cover my lips with a mug…
the monks she brought to alabama from eastern europe & texas & georgia / monks she doctored, fed, & housed in the basement / monks lugging long beards the color…
The tonic root could be a sick manβs thumb. He had your hair, she said. But the photographs are tan and monochrome. The memories are snow. He had your hair,…
Questions for the Outward Curve of My Stomach, Where I Sometimes Rest My Hand and Pretend to be Pregnant What have I inherited? Is it salt? Why does it…
The note says thighs and shoulders, mouth and eyes. I wait tables at an upscale restaurant in Belle Meade. Iβm eighteen with an invitation to spend a day with a…
A photon leaves Geneva, and arrives at one of two conclusions in two separate universes. In this one, your shorts are made of shouts and my lingerie is dark enough…
Up too late with a mouthful of feathers. Alone with the sheets shoved to the end of the bed. Hot. Lost. What ghost have I fallen for? What ghost would…
The boat trembles as if it has seen an old vessel ghost, refracts the moonlight shredded skies pour over hungry crests; wide brushstrokes of mist with pointillist stints; composite picture…
It is twilight and the children sleep. Wind blows waves in the grass, and although it is cold their mothers are not here to kiss their cheeks and find their…
At 4:50 we carried the drums to the front of the house We lined the congas like armor Sat tall and proud behind them our palms messaging to the cow…
A white woman decides to write a poem about the cities of America burning. In her words, black grandmothers she does not know walk barefoot over the bodies of their…