Kerry James Evans The cables broke off in the teeth of my channel locks, lead terminal corroded worse than the tile floor at Steak ‘n Shake, where they still haven’t found a decent recipe for hash browns. Anyway, I shocked the ever-loving shit out of myself, forgetting to remove the negative before the positive, which … Continue reading Changing a Truck Battery
Category: Poetry
Pilgrim
Molly Minturn In my early teens I was an acolyte at the Episcopal church the next town over. I want you to see me in the vestry, snapping up my red gown and pulling the billowing white blouse over my head. I want you to see me walking up the aisles holding the golden crucifix … Continue reading Pilgrim
Chet Baker
Laton Carter When I opened the window, not for a second did I fly. My mind was sinking elsewhere. The quiet of the hotel room received the night air, and I nodded into it. My body followed. There’s no romance in any of this. I had privileges and took advantage. Then, as in a circle, … Continue reading Chet Baker
Folk Tale
Justin Runge The fog was a cloud. Appeared on campus like a political figure. Like a holy holiday. Dined on marginalia in the faculty offices. The student newspaper sent its best reporter to the fog, which gave an evasive interview. The fog then moved on to the wetlands, snagging on bracken like hem. Made faces … Continue reading Folk Tale
Hunger [or the last of the daughter-hymns]
Chelsea Dingman i. (n) a feeling discomfort of weakness caused by a lack of food, coupled with the desire to eat— so I talk to wind winnowing my ribs into wind chimes. I swallow small coins from the counters, wanting change my body can keep. I stand on the street corner in the rain & coax … Continue reading Hunger [or the last of the daughter-hymns]
The Morning Your Husband Surrendered Himself to Prison
Anna Claire Hodge Your Rottweiler was pregnant. You wondered what to do as her girth neared bursting, what kind of mother she might be. You hadn’t mentioned children for months, knowing he’d be barred from playgrounds and schools, stacks of pizza boxes and gallons of ice cream at birthday parties. We spoke in whispers at … Continue reading The Morning Your Husband Surrendered Himself to Prison
Upon Re-Entry
Arden Levine After all that time indoors (the illness, the convalescence) I couldn’t recall which of the wool hats cause my forehead to itch. I’d forgotten that I like to listen to music on headphones while walking to the grocery store, and I’d lost track of the grocery store. Going weeks without checking my mail … Continue reading Upon Re-Entry
A Poem by Weston Cutter
by Jacob Sunderlin, Co-Editor of Poetry Weston Cutter is from Minnesota, is the author of the book of stories You’d Be a Stranger, Too, has had work recently inForklift, OH and the Kenyon Review, and is an assistant professor at the University of St. Francis in Fort Wayne, IN. His poem “If Not River” is … Continue reading A Poem by Weston Cutter
Apron
BY LILAH HEGNAUER (for Karen) Tell me the story again, how you made another body of your own and kept him well & here. Imagine: his enormous leather mittens, still filled. Bucket crowded with unwashed russet potatoes. Loss is a far cry from utterly unhinged, just me and my lattice windows. He is gone, and … Continue reading Apron
Selene’s Horse
BY NANCY K. PEARSON –for my Grandfather James I asked James, can you feel you’re dying? Can you feel the water pouring from the hose turn to nothing in the grass? James loved his big rigs. I love the sweet metallic reek filling my own gas tank. All day the train shuttles heaps of carpet scraps … Continue reading Selene’s Horse
