spring 2017
Table of Contents
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We Could Have Called Him Joe, We Didn't
Juliane Okot Bitek
box cars paper plates annie ross
Prayer For Our Past Selves
Esther McPhee
Dear Miss Parker
Dear Mama
Chelene Knight
Aztlan Travels Emiliano Sepulveda
Singing in Dark Times
Bhaswati Ghosh
from Glossary of Musical Terms rob mclennan
Romeo, Romeo, WTF?
P.C. Vandall
Red Sarongs
Clementine
Chelsea Comeau
The Lady or the Tiger? Michelle Brooks
First Loves in Brevoort Park
Body Analysis
Erin Hiebert
A Coke and a KitKat
Spenser Smith
Constantly Looking, Admitting Nothing
Paul Douglas McNeill II
from Electric Garden
Amanda Earl
Inside My House
Gleaning Stones
Onjana Yawnghwe
Inside My House
Silent like the tear ducts of my eyes,
I stay coiled like a newborn snake.
There is nothing I need.
For entertainment I watch
the tug-of-war between
an elephant and a hundred men.
I have costumes for the hot season,
the rainy season and the cool season.
The King changes my costumes himself.
I don’t want to be seen,
to have voices address me.
This is what I have wanted, always.
My teeth are strong.
I keep them as sharp
as the fingernails of tigers.
No one knows that there are
390 steps to my house, and
sometimes it is very cold there.