Ian Willey Like Father, Like Son Asked what he wanted to be when he grew up my son answered, without looking up from his drawing, that he’d either be a pilot or a Triceratops, which made our guest laugh, but not me, because I’d thought more or less the same thing when I was his […]
Read MoreIan Willey Back from the Mall I wonder if that woman in the silver hybrid ever found the space she was looking for. Ian Willey writes poetry without rhyme or reason.
Read MoreDawn Corrigan The Parable of the Cat One night Adam and I went out to the dog track to play a tourney but unfortunately we forgot to follow rule number one, which is always, always take separate cars because invariably one of you busts out in the first couple rounds and one makes the final […]
Read MoreFrom Your Editors Election Day Candidate lawn signs wilt in the same rain as cardboard headstones. On this Election Day, we step away from our usual policy against publishing work by the editors here. We’re also stepping away from our usual requirement for one sentence bios. This poem is by Elizabeth McMunn-Tetangco, who co-edits One […]
Read MoreHowie Good October Light Not evening yet, the leaves erupting in obsolete colors, Dragon’s Blood, Uranium Yellow, Mummy Brown, while the wind makes confession, and I sit here alone and think about it, something I’ll never know, whose idea this was. Howie Good is not dark yet.
Read MoreGil Hoy Englishmen Have you been to the Protestant cemetery in Rome and seen Keats’s cats— so many cats— skating on a watery grave, drinking the writ water, growing stronger? Gil Hoy writes poems in Boston, Massachusetts and neighboring environs, reads Elizabeth Bishop and John Keats, and tries cases before juries of his peers.
Read MoreDevon Balwit Pack In the night, my husband disappears from his usual spot in the bed, my groping hand finding him flipped around, arms hugging the dog at our feet, where I join him, both of us forsaking the lonely comfort of our pillows for the shared breath of the pack. Devon Balwit is a […]
Read MoreMike Corrao Untitled No. 2 Hamlet would be much better if they removed everyone else’s lines and just let the poor guy sort things out on his own. Mike Corrao is an artist who makes all sorts of things.
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