Sudbury Community Garden

Rage Hezekiah Sunflowers slump like drunks outside the bar, thick stalks necrotic— stripped of seeds by unfed starlings, dark birds pillaging the beds. Butternut squash hulls litter snowless soil, russet tomato skins stick to wet ground beside faded seed markers submerged in earth. February shouldn’t warm the loam, but I walk the farm with bare … Continue reading Sudbury Community Garden


Brian Woerner My father is an echo I can neither write nor run from: bald coin in my palm, or I swim in the grooved pool of his hands. Patron saint of batting practice, paint your shaving cream self-portrait in the clouded bathroom mirror. Stay with me. Don’t come any nearer. from Issue 31.1 BRIAN … Continue reading Icon


Michela L. Garabedian In San Joaquin Valley all the pretty girls wear yellow dresses. They wear yellow and pick chilies until their hands stain red. In San Joaquin Valley it never rains, though pretty girls would look awfully pretty in yellow dresses in the rain. In the backyard in my underwear and black training bra … Continue reading Fresno


S. Brook Corfman Do you know what it is to absence? How the moon curls away from itself into the blanket of sky? Look in turn at each exile, how each alone returns to the house, if each returns. The calendar's pages fall all out of order and even the fruit supports the war. Israel … Continue reading PARTICIPATION


S. Brook Corfman O bright box, ripping, M. Moore wrote red flowers will not make red wine but I tried anyway, pressed them and ate them with eggs for breakfast. Counterintuitively, particularly bright colors often last longer than "regular" colors when left in the sun; it is not about intensity—there is less fading because the … Continue reading PROSOPOPOEIAN


Michael Torres Love needs a chaperone. Alone now, the pachuco’s grandson holds the CD, and waits for the sky to tell him what to do. God knows how to make a sign out of anything: a song played for the fifth time that day; petals you pluck from a flowerhead. Yesterday, his homie said, Diana … Continue reading THE PACHUCO’S GRANDSON CONSIDERS THE SILVERSUN PICKUPS’ ALBUM DIANA LENT HIM SEVEN YEARS AGO

In Adam’s Room (I)

Daniel Schonning If there is a thesis to the universe then tongues have no place in it. Angels, I know, don’t have them. They have mouths the way you or I navels: vestigial, defunct. Once pressed to the warm mouth of God. Without tongues, mana settles on the backs of their throats like fireplace smoke … Continue reading In Adam’s Room (I)


Donna Gary My mother always got jokes Only she know how they go When it’s a secret she grins so wide I can see my auntie gold tooth I can see two sisters in one mouth One sister raises me into a girl of crown grease thickness. Every morning her hands braid my hair into … Continue reading Mouth

♫♫depending on how you see/ a thing, the ship is free/ or it is sinking♫♫

shelley feller aye, ich icky thicc physic, suck-o i’m a snack, natch stabbed of thee, ye lech i dress’t, deliver’t the victual aclang, acock, atop, agog i got yr gog adance, adangle delectable undetected deee-lite belay that mister-man bad skin bad eyes gay & fatty fuddy rudder main-topgallant backstays all spanker gaff crossjack in the … Continue reading ♫♫depending on how you see/ a thing, the ship is free/ or it is sinking♫♫