fall 2020
Table of Contents
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Netsuke
When We Wake Together in a Lost City
Iris Jamahl Dunkle
The Narrow Road to Deep Marriage
John Wall Barger
One exists
The embroidering light
you learn
J.I. Kleinberg
Okapi Wood Bison Kristi Maxwell
Horses Innocence, Experience
Ryan Eavis
The Northern Flicker
Identic
Andrew Lafleche
from Vanishing Twin Syndrome: VII
James Cagney
Neurons, Metal, Seed
Reading Rocks and Mountains
Susan Landgraf
Pattern Recognition
Tolu Oloruntoba
Bracketed
A Post-Apocalyptic Nightmare
Danielle Badra
Bingo Card for the End Times
Milla van der Have
verses upon the burning of our house
Amanda Merpaw
In a Dark Field
Jesse Sensibar
What We Do When We Run Out of Elephants
Shareen K. Murayama
Fragments of a World
Dayna Patterson
My Father's House
A.N. Higgins
Routes on the Red Subarctic Archipelago Tongue Heather Simeney MacLeod
What We Do When We Run Out of Elephants
Today the volume button on my phone
stopped working.
No. I should say died.
I hate saying died.
Today the volume button on my phone died:
your voicemails cradled metallic
in my pocket too thin—
They say a hundred elephants are killed each day:
a living room toothless times a hundred.
They say elephants bury their dead:
tympanic shrills and gentle nudging
shaking against what is passing: tentacular.
A limbic silence wakes the community
tossing branches and leaves on the not moving.
They say members of the herd will stay with the body for days
before moving on.
I hate when people say moving on.
Today the volume button on my phone died.
I hate saying died.
What will we do when what powers
us stops moving—
a gentle nudge, shaking against
what’s already moved on.