spring 2018
Table of Contents
Return to Home PageDear Chepe Wilbur Melissa Weiss
Grim Reaper in Therapy Brandon Marlon
Never the Desired Absence Nick Alti
He Ring Liar's Dice Confluence Derek Thomas Dew
Sea Room / The Adrift Exhibit / Queer Lynx Joseph Spece
Push Armamentarium Adrienne Gruber
Trump As a Fire Without Light #665 Darren C. Demaree
drowning man is not a superhero Aidan Chafe
First Ultrasound Second Ultrasound Stephanie Yorke
Wet Parable Duck Carver Nathan Curnow
Naming Cow Field Danielle Hanson
Like André Derain David R. Dixon
Ice Skating in Holland Carol Hamilton
an understanding Natasha Zarin
Cracked Fabergé Egg Of Yes Lauren Turner
Synonyms For Shelter Jill Talbot
The Path Discoverer Taylor Bond
He Ring
Each bird a canal into the dam, when it blows, a little two-step, a bird porcelain stride.
Model helicopters, mother buried deep in the model helicopters.
A bicycle with a good escape, laughing all the time, never laughing.
He doesn’t mind if I flush the toilet and pee into it while it goes down.
By saying Walter, you have unsaid Walter, yet all berries are meant for Walter.
An axe golden black in the charcoal sketch, the freedom to make prisoners.
Brushing his teeth at the river.
I am not so chosen for freedom, but from freedom. Bereaved of hatchet.
Why not always the orange door, I am slow, I remember thinking.
Fighter, I am thinking, he is the ring. Walter is where I do my fighting.