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