spring 2018
Table of Contents
Return to Home PageIce Skating in Holland Carol Hamilton
Never the Desired Absence
Nick Alti
Dear Chepe
Wilbur
Melissa Weiss
Push
Armamentarium
Adrienne Gruber
Trump As a Fire Without Light #665
Darren C. Demaree
Cracked Fabergé Egg Of Yes
Lauren Turner
Naming
Cow Field
Danielle Hanson
The Path Discoverer
Taylor Bond
Grim Reaper in Therapy
Brandon Marlon
Like André Derain
David R. Dixon
Synonyms For Shelter
Jill Talbot
drowning man is not a superhero
Aidan Chafe
Sea Room / The Adrift
Exhibit / Queer
Lynx
Joseph Spece
Wet Parable
Duck
Carver
Nathan Curnow
He Ring Liar's Dice Confluence Derek Thomas Dew
First Ultrasound
Second Ultrasound
Stephanie Yorke
an understanding
Natasha Zarin
Naming
Naming something is committing it to memory. Death,
hovering over a field, is called Eurasian kestrel.
Mountain evading sky is called Alp, or Himalaya, or...
The startling of day into hiding, like a doe in the forest,
is called night, and now doe and forest can take residence
in our brains. Day, peaking from the corner to see
if it’s safe, is called stars, but never moon, never flashlight or firefly.
A rock has always been a rock, even a toddler knows,
and there’s no sense in naming it.