Lucia Cherciu Aunt Maria’s Orchard She treaded through the village and up the hill carrying on her back a young plum tree, the fragile, elastic branches getting into her long, black hair and pulling at it, tossing it out from under her scarf. Lucia Cherciu writes both in English and in Romanian, and her new […]
Read MoreWilliam Cullen, Jr. Her Burial The April rain that usually cleanses pelted us like we were actors performing for the dead but could not quite cross that line where the stage ended and eternity began. . William Cullen, Jr., a veteran who works at a non-profit in New York City, has had his poetry appear in Canary, Gulfstream, […]
Read MoreKatherine DiBella Seluja Without this body, will I? Bones of our old goat, dug up daily by the new one Until piles of red stone, finally Put that to rest. Katherine DiBella Seluja is a poet who is willing to open old wounds.
Read MoreBob Janis-Dillon The Plot The Big Bang was a sneaky trick God and I put together to get you to play piano for us next Saturday. Bob Janis-Dillon alternates serving as a Unitarian Universalist minister with writing haiku translations of Shakespeare’s plays.
Read MoreShea Neuner Nietzschean Rain The solitary shower must have been the birthplace of existentialism. Shea Neuner writes many sentences, performs occasional monologues, and routinely wears goofy socks as a student in Hackettstown, NJ.
Read MoreCraig Brandis Cold Snap A frozen river of low grinding sound plays out across the curry brown hills, wandering like Orpheus‐‐ sunlight, shade, sunlight. Craig Brandis is a singer-songwriter, a two-fisted thinker and an inveterate fiddler with the banjo.
Read MoreCamille 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.
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