spring 2017
Table of Contents
Return to Home Pagefrom Electric Garden Amanda Earl
We Could Have Called Him Joe, We Didn't Juliane Okot Bitek
Dear Miss Parker Dear Mama Chelene Knight
Constantly Looking, Admitting Nothing Paul Douglas McNeill II
Prayer For Our Past Selves Esther McPhee
from Glossary of Musical Terms rob mclennan
A Coke and a KitKat Spenser Smith
First Loves in Brevoort Park Body Analysis Erin Hiebert
Aztlan Travels Emiliano Sepulveda
Singing in Dark Times Bhaswati Ghosh
Red Sarongs Clementine Chelsea Comeau
box cars paper plates annie ross
The Lady or the Tiger? Michelle Brooks
Romeo, Romeo, WTF? P.C. Vandall
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.