spring 2020
Table of Contents
Return to Home PageBreathturning Chris Checkwitch
Tchaikovsky, Age 52, Finds His Inspiration
John Barton
Six Gray Moons on a Screen
Eleanor Kedney
How Do I Love Thee? Let Me Count the Nachos
Jessica Covil
A Symptom of Resignation
The Gee Whiz Element of Tropical Storms and Symphonies
Jen Karetnick
Humid Weather
Me of Me
Catherine Strisik
sold separately Lesley Battler
blue light
Stephanie Yue Duhem
Like the best myths
Medusozoa
Sarah Lyons-Lin
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
she is in the kitchen now
Nora Pace
Communion of Tongues
Hege A. Jakobsen Lepri
Monologue of a Fly's Shadow
Monologue of a Cow's Shadow
Danielle Hanson
There Is No Substitute for Good Planning
Erin Kirsh
Stem of Old French Creistre, To Grow
Of Stinging Nettle
Page Hill Starzinger
Another Vision
Patricia Nelson
Supermarket Lobsters
Robbie Gamble
A Twohanded Cut
The Tornado Cut
The Pandora Cut
Torben Robertson
The Gee Whiz Element of Tropical Storms and Symphonies
During the opening of the hurricane,
the water drains, a rapid decrescendo,
from the shoreline. As silent as sand,
we gather dinner, our nets replete with
those flounder neaped before the coming
movement, caught on a shard of harbor
as if on the ego of a king. We explore
with a microburst of confidence gusting
as hard as the earth’s last heated, swollen
breaths. But this lazy adagio will not hold,
written to return like a horn section da capo,
da capo. If we’re lucky, we will escape before
the pour accelerato, before thunder so tympanic
we’re held captive and captivated,
spectator and spectered, carried away on
a diaphragmatic surge to a horizon that we can’t
see and are able, despite such fine-tuned
percussion, to deny how this ending could be so.