torrin a. greathouse Drinking Games So many nights i find myself playing drinking games with empty rooms, is it really spin the bottle if the bottle is the only one you kiss? torrin a. greathouse is a queer, nonbinary poet from southern california, whose work you can find at howdoipronouncetheatsign.tumblr.com.
Read Moretorrin a. greathouse Gender of the Day A paper doll—every inch of this body a scissor wound that does not bleed & the floor is covered in scraps of me, a dozen paper bodies trying to unfold into something new —a body where i feel like i belong. torrin a. greathouse is a queer, nonbinary […]
Read MoreJoseph K Wells Dawn The night is the dark womb of the universe from which the day is born. Joseph K Wells is a night owl who has difficulty waking up in the morning.
Read MoreRay Templeton Positively Cowslips I read that in one of the Central Asian languages, they use the names of wild flowers to express abstract emotions, but although I walk the fields for hours I’ve never found the one for when I look across the room at what is no longer there. Ray Templeton might have […]
Read MoreRay Templeton The Wait He wakes in the night, the bed half-cold, and moves to shift the bare facts, coughs to unmake the space in the room, stretches to fill the house, still sharp, still broken when outside, the sun lifts into the branches. Ray Templeton writes poetry, prose and songs and sometimes the same […]
Read MoreRay Templeton So Near In almost a blizzard I break into almost a run, skittering on the almost frozen pavement, and when I’m almost there, I see the skin of powdery white that almost coats the window glass, with a finger trace of letters, that I can almost read. Ray Templeton has been writing poetry […]
Read MoreRay Templeton Cut-outs With paper and scissors I formed the shape of a human being, but it wouldn’t tell me what I needed to do, and when it finally did speak, it told only of long nights without a moon, of rivers with no reflections and plants that grew to bud but never flowered. Ray […]
Read MoreMike Harrell What Was Said Give me a call. I don’t have phone numbers, you said, and I thought it was a koan, but I called and though you weren’t there, your voice was, serious and beautiful, and though I didn’t leave a message, I sent mail to the mailbox you don’t have, just to […]
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