spring 2020
Table of Contents
Return to Home Page
she is in the kitchen now
Nora Pace
Family Dinner
In Which I Re-name My Father
Poem Containing Only Words I Hate
griffin epstein
Moon Turned Her Half Face From Me
Lawrence Feuchtwanger
sold separately Lesley Battler
Communion of Tongues
Hege A. Jakobsen Lepri
Humid Weather
Me of Me
Catherine Strisik
A Symptom of Resignation
The Gee Whiz Element of Tropical Storms and Symphonies
Jen Karetnick
Monologue of a Fly's Shadow
Monologue of a Cow's Shadow
Danielle Hanson
Six Gray Moons on a Screen
Eleanor Kedney
Tchaikovsky, Age 52, Finds His Inspiration
John Barton
Like the best myths
Medusozoa
Sarah Lyons-Lin
blue light
Stephanie Yue Duhem
Breathturning Chris Checkwitch
There Is No Substitute for Good Planning
Erin Kirsh
How Do I Love Thee? Let Me Count the Nachos
Jessica Covil
Supermarket Lobsters
Robbie Gamble
Stem of Old French Creistre, To Grow
Of Stinging Nettle
Page Hill Starzinger
A Twohanded Cut
The Tornado Cut
The Pandora Cut
Torben Robertson
Another Vision
Patricia Nelson


How Do I Love Thee? Let Me Count the Nachos
I swear I
love you more than nachos
and my food processor—
combined.
I swear I
love you more than the pork rinds
I sub in for Tostitos,
the gooey blend of cheddar, asadero,
both Jacks.
I swear I
love you more than the ground beef
set to simmer in its own juices
and taco seasoning,
bubbling lightly and so
fragrantly.
I swear I love you more than sour cream,
a dollop of which
goes a long way,
like they always claimed
in those Daisy commercials.
I swear I
love you more than the final touches,
the ones not essential, per se
the diced tomato and sliced avocado
that make me say
oh oh,
I think I’ve found my one.