Amaranth Borsuk:: Five Simple Machines

The hand that had its work cut out for it was cut out
for its work. Knuckling down on the desk, it curled
to a tool not there, scissors that might replace pen
with loop and lever, flexed: machinely precision—
potential at rest…read the rest here

Heather Christle:: The Seaside!

This is a wall of great intensity and furious
it kind of hums yellow and hums
green and never shall it hum purple Captain
when will you relieve me The wall
I love at night is huge and warms me
like a caterpillar or bag but do I also
have a family Captain or is the wall
the only shelter I have known and furious…read the rest here

Louise Mathias:: Silt

Yes, it was a kind of terror. As if fingering
the spine of a book, then finding
every page is gone. In this admission,
children can go missing…read the rest here

Oliver de la Paz:: Labyrinth 58

The boy in the labyrinth presses his palm against his chest. His heart sifts through the
morning’s weight. The life promised resides somewhere in the hungry marrow. The
promised life becomes something else…read the rest here

David Dodd Lee:: “The Soul as a Skiff”

That was where I learned

my guardian angel is a liar. She called me Little Saint. She struck me
in the head with a wand made out of shallow ponds: first

I saw her feet naked, her legs, her wings folded. She said, My
breasts are not two fountains…read the rest here

Eryn Green:: Dear Beings, I Can Feel Your Hands

I can’t just go out and buy a wheat-colored soul


write a sadder poem—startled


by windows curved up in the shape of


fins. Up and behind my head


the shadows on the table spin


for us. We are in love—if I could


spend my life beneath palm fronds…read the rest here