Camille Thomasson Poem 3 After my death, they opened my box and were not surprised to find octagonal quilting scraps well grouped by hue but not stitched together. Camille Thomasson is an obsessive scribbler of poems on cocktail napkins and grocery receipts.
Read MoreA. Kat Reece Mourning Song for Katey The mother in me would hold you the way that morning cradles last night’s moon as I write this, drawing the low gray dawn across Heaven, aligning the bones of the day. A. Kat Reece, an MFA candidate and teacher of composition at North Carolina State University.
Read MoreJames Brush Arctic Front A desiccated butterfly, animated by wind, skitters along your curbside. James Brush lives in Austin, TX and posts things online at Coyote Mercury where he keeps a full list of publications.
Read MoreJames Brush The Wanderer He wore a hatful of moonlight and in the daytime pretended to ignore the inconvenient coyotes trailing him through the streets, howling. James Brush lives in Austin, TX and posts things online at Coyote Mercury where he keeps a full list of publications.
Read MoreJulia Rose Lewis Not Together Alas we have landed and still it is dark. Julia Rose Lewis is simultaneously in love with the little grey lady in the sea, the biologist, and Apollo’s Lady.
Read MoreRon. Lavalette Anthropomorphism I saw my father cry like a baby once. Ron. Lavalette collects his many published works at EGGS OVER TOKYO.
Read MoreAaron Wiegert Paradise Defined On the side of a delivery truck, the idyllic destination of bottled water’s origin. Aaron Wiegert lives in Des Moines Iowa (that’s 50% vowels).
Read MoreTony Press To save my life To save my life, I can’t back a car in a straight line, write by hand so anyone can read it, meditate like the others, eat responsibly, crawl into a tunnel or step into a cave, or avoid a flash of fear when I find myself alone. Tony Press lives […]
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