fall 2020
Table of Contents
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Bracketed
A Post-Apocalyptic Nightmare
Danielle Badra
Netsuke
When We Wake Together in a Lost City
Iris Jamahl Dunkle
Horses Innocence, Experience
Ryan Eavis
My Father's House
A.N. Higgins
from Vanishing Twin Syndrome: VII
James Cagney
Okapi Wood Bison Kristi Maxwell
The Narrow Road to Deep Marriage
John Wall Barger
Neurons, Metal, Seed
Reading Rocks and Mountains
Susan Landgraf
One exists
The embroidering light
you learn
J.I. Kleinberg
What We Do When We Run Out of Elephants
Shareen K. Murayama
Routes on the Red Subarctic Archipelago Tongue Heather Simeney MacLeod
Fragments of a World
Dayna Patterson
Bingo Card for the End Times
Milla van der Have
The Northern Flicker
Identic
Andrew Lafleche
In a Dark Field
Jesse Sensibar
Pattern Recognition
Tolu Oloruntoba
verses upon the burning of our house
Amanda Merpaw
A Post-Apocalyptic Nightmare
—after Etel Adnan
No one killed. No one killing. No one killer. No one kills
prayer in the mosque without reason.
Without motive. Without sacrifice. Without regret
black procession tinier than ants.
A human but no humanity. A book but no binding. A sundial but no gnomon.
A breeze but no garden.
Are you ready? Are you waiting? Are you aware? Are you armed?
The much-awaited enemy has not come.
Yet another year. You’re here yet again. The end yet is near.
He ate his yellow sun and vomited.
Icarus burns before an impact with earth creates space.
Time:
impact craters
lemon crushed by a wheel grating under funerals
allowed to happen. Allowed by gold. Allowed by language.
Between Beirut and Sidon there is sea.
Between yes and no there is desert. Between rich and poor there is dusk.
The night is not of war.
War is every second. War is everywhere. War is every word.
Nothing is crushed by the silence.
Prayer is silent. Poems are silent. Peace is silent. Protest is silenced.
Guns are rusting in travel bags.
This is a
Revolution.