Poetry
by Hillary Kobernick.
“I am reading Spanish posters / and wondering about stomach aches— /
mine, mostly.”
by Laurie Kutchins.
“Every underworld begins with a rabbit hole, a vent in the earth. / Noisy boys peering down, running home for lanterns and rope, a / Dizzy girl meanwhile tumbling into it.”
by Kelly Vande Plasse.
“We knew the outcome going in. / My grandfather, too weak for surgery, / would be gone within a day or two.”
by Jaydn DeWald.
“I believe my girlfriend may be playing for somebody else in the audience. Her face, when lifted, seems to drift toward the middle-back row of seats.”
by Aracelis Girmay.
“Abrigette, evenings you are my head. / I think of you at night & then in sleep, bricks / of your house stacked neatly, your dogs & your cats, / & I wonder if you are one hundred now…”
by Elizabeth J. Coleman.
“If I were a musical instrument, I’d be / a guitar, or violin, one that cries out, / the way the clarinet belted out / Smile When Your Heart is Breaking…”
by Wendy Wisner.
“is out the window, along with a tinge /
of yellow on the oak trees. Last night I dreamt / I took my college job back—typing, data entry—”
by Maya Klauber.
“I awake in a hospital bed to what could /
only be a thousand tiny jellyfish infusing /
my veins. Typical. I came here to be healed, / and now I’ve got a jellyfish problem.”
by Brenna Working Lemieux.
“Never mind that her fingers bow backwards, / they’re so lithe, that the bones below her skin / spoke like umbrella ribs, that the bible’s onion-skin / pages arch at her touch…”