Two Prose Poems by Christine Scanlon
if I cut this way, you circle in two. it hurts, the way lines are drawn. with color of dissent. if you have forgotten, it’s as if you break apart from being. retreat to your hym(n) section. then we parry on... Read More
Three Prose Poems by Yoo Heekyung, trans. from Korean by Stine Su Yon An
i am so very curious about the thing you said you’d planted and i wonder why you are so sick of such peonies, you who would have brushed off your hands loudly after planting them... Read More
Four Poems by Emmanuel Merle, trans. from French by Jeffrey Jullich
These people, it’s simple, / they’re like creases in reality, folds found / in rocks, bulges on tree trunks, these strange / bodies wound the pupil of my eye, forcing me to look... Read More
The Torque of Thought by Tom Carlson
The dance only aspires toward that which it is, disclosing neither truth nor rule, but rather the persistence of itself as flux and torque... Read More
Four Poems by Raymond de Borja
And I imagine colors too in conversations / leading to the ending, / foaming their phosphorescent streaks... Read More
Confession by Martine Bellen
Who seeks an old poem? / A poem / long in the tooth / losing / its words? / Who seeks a poem / that forgets? / The poem / placed a post / in the help / wanted section / of the virtual paper... Read More
Three Texts by Phoebe Glick
I looked into the center of an abstract painting and saw my own face, painted by someone who cared for me deeply. You were on the fence about whether you wanted to fuck the painting or one day become the painting. I reached over and touched your hand. It was wet, and you held mine... Read More
The Third by Claire Donato
There is no sequitur in the previous sentence, I realize. I got carried away by the sound of her head falling on the floor. Subsequently, I picked up the shards and rearranged them into a distorted portrait, through which I perceive a foreboding sense of self... Read More
Five Poems from The Star-Spangled Brand by Marcelo Morales, trans. from Spanish by Kristin Dykstra
Freedom and solitude go together. / The hand is better at killing than the mind. / The way power steers truth and steers lies. / The way they steer your life. / From a place in the present, you choose the past. / You accept the tyranny of circumstance... Read More