spring 2018
Table of Contents
Return to Home PageGrim Reaper in Therapy Brandon Marlon
drowning man is not a superhero Aidan Chafe
Naming Cow Field Danielle Hanson
Ice Skating in Holland Carol Hamilton
First Ultrasound Second Ultrasound Stephanie Yorke
Synonyms For Shelter Jill Talbot
Trump As a Fire Without Light #665 Darren C. Demaree
Like André Derain David R. Dixon
Push Armamentarium Adrienne Gruber
The Path Discoverer Taylor Bond
Never the Desired Absence Nick Alti
Wet Parable Duck Carver Nathan Curnow
Cracked Fabergé Egg Of Yes Lauren Turner
The Fall Spencer Smith
an understanding Natasha Zarin
Dear Chepe Wilbur Melissa Weiss
He Ring Liar's Dice Confluence Derek Thomas Dew
Sea Room / The Adrift Exhibit / Queer Lynx Joseph Spece
The Fall
It was Monday, or perhaps Tuesday.
The day is not important—
over the expanding belly of time,
what is one day more or less?
But on that day the toe of my shoe
caught the edge of the world
that someone had left
carelessly draped across the sidewalk
and severed every root
that kept me grounded, and I found
myself tilting on a new axis,
face facing the earth
in sudden close-up clarity like
an unexpected hug from a distant aunt,
and all the pain associated with it,
without the memories.