Category / 2018 / Fall 2018 / Poetry

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  • Resurrection – Anna Allen

    Resurrection You pulled me from the graveyard Toes first It was difficult to take a breath A mouth full of dark, compact dirt But I did it for you Where did you go for so long I part-way understand Getting lost in the creases of one’s own brain But a single flower would’ve been nice…

  • Subterranean Lyric #3 – Anne Babson

    Subterranean Lyric #3 “O taste and see that the LORD is good….” – Psalm 34:8   I am nestled in the folds of filo dough, Not the nuts, not the honey, that other thing, The one you can’t identify  but that makes Baklava not just saccharine, insipid. You thought it might be cloves, but there…

  • As Of Now – Lily Crowder

    As Of Now   I want to live on the moon. I want to bathe in a crater filled with scorching water and lavender soap. Sweet serenity fills my pores. When the wind grazes your back through the small holes in the lawn chair think of me. I do envy the breeze. May I always…

  • How to Snowshoe – Anthony J. Dennis

    How to Snowshoe   One must forget the snow, the painful arch, the ominous brightness of March.   On snowshoes you must go until the sky un-names you, and the sun burns the memories from your face.   You are lost in a Sahara of snow now, far from the wheel and the plow and…

  • Hillsboro House – Alexis Draut

    Hillsboro House   I can do no wrong but my body still feels like it doesn’t belong to me. It doesn’t matter how I decide what I want to believe, because truth will always inhabit the air of my being. It doesn’t matter where I grow into the fullness of a life, for I will…

  • memories in Wellington – Alexis Draut

    memories in Wellington   Katie and I each stole a boiled egg, salted them, and ate them on the porch behind the wharekai. On a walk in a neighborhood I didn’t know, I found a red leaf and pretended it was my lips. I’m out of words to offer the sun from my mind. All…

  • Luca – Maya Elena Jackson

    Luca   Finally, I’m so free I could die. The carnival sign said “You can ask for anything!” I said “Do you have the silver ring I found at Bookmans, and gave To my high school boyfriend who Wore it while he Played the drums and Bent its shape? Because I am trying To find…

  • money – Anastasia Jill

    money   Her skirt is velvet and slit right up a honeyed thigh — Fendi cheeks and nails sharp brand my back in bloody gold. There is a red strap on her hip bone, the mark of a hot, leather touch. It hurts but she should be happy; after all, she has money. She dresses…

  • An Anthem for Brown – Babitha Marina Justin

    An Anthem for Brown   We grew up in a place where shades of brown mattered: from beige to burnt umber. My mother told me that black is beauty though she herself did not believe it. In the school bus, we measured our skintones against each other’s knuckles; the paler potato-peel brown always won. Some…

  • To Write – Kyle Kutz

    To Write   I’m going to die One day Having left so much undone. Sure, I’ve written some words, Told some tales, But what will they become? A drop In a bucket? Perhaps, A tsunami amid the sea? Well, If I touch Just one soul That’d be alright by me.