fall 2018
Table of Contents
Return to Home PageIf You See Something, Say Something James Cagney
For Murphy Glow Stick Fingers Jade Riordan
Ode to the Cockroach my tiny minnow Cara Waterfall
Victims of Captology Kyla Jamieson
Phantom Courses Steven Ray Smith
The First Treatise The Second Treatise The Third Treatise Yara Farran
George Bowering: Scatter-Gun Ken Cathers: the sum Craig Dworkin: The Déjà Vu of Déjà Dit Stephen Bett
Friendly Nuts Carl Joesf Homolka
Re: Wards of the Crown Jeremy Luke Hill
Ganapati Brume Yuugen Gulf Adam Day
Poetic Outcrops poetic extracts: study #8 Sean Howard
Marketplace Road Trip, 1985 Christopher Evans
Tulips for Barbara Ann E. Michael
Under the Arbor Heather Bourbeau
forbidden music we should probably Conor Barnes
If You See Something, Say Something
I pick up my mail down the street from an ICE raid,
hamboning myself for title, proof of ownership
passport, license. The sky began hailing handcuffs
& zip-ties, unlocked chains made easy for self-service.
I prayed like a sprinkler, my back drizzling every God with blood.
I open my mailbox downwind from an ICE house.
It resembles an overstuffed bird cage sweating feathers.
The house leaks, windows spitting long knots of people.
Children rap the Patteroller chant while hopscotching.
My box weeps smeared postcards, prayers returned to sender.
I open my ICE box downhill from a cage of zombie birds—
It rattles with weeping mothers under siege by evil spirits
snatching children out of families easy as pick-
pockets. They plead my help but I'm dead already.
I open an extinct bird downtown from a male raid.
Its corpse whistles ancient worksongs when squeezed,
while its chest spills continents of the undocumented.
I scream stop but ICE chips spew from my throat
only to quickly roll away, feeling threatened
I open my mailbox downstairs from a chorus of ICE'd birds
in a prayer vigil around a child lying in the street, near
extinction. It is as if he'd fallen from space and landed here,
leaking meteors. A speed-bump suicide. I turn him over & he asks:
What color am I? I don't have the heart to tell him.