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Poetry
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Cortney Lamar Charleston 

BALDWIN RIFF The whole world is burning,but I’m still not sweating.              This means one of two things:  I’m not close enough to the flames(Ha! Have you looked at me, fam?!)                                                           orI, myself, am made of fire.   NOTE PINNED TO THE WALL FOR THE FLY WHO FREQUENTS IT I don’t give a damn anymore. […]

By admin Posted in Poetry on May 26, 2018 0 Comments Continue reading
Jenny Yang Cropp

About the Author THE GIRL wonders: If the emotional equivalent of tornadic wind is a particular kind of fury, under what conditions will a girl become a supercell?[1] At what speed will a poison heart unhanded lodge in someone’s chest like straw in a telephone pole?   ______________ [1] On her second birthday, 59 tornadoes […]

By admin Posted in Poetry on April 28, 2018 0 Comments Continue reading
Danielle Cadena Deulen

In Movies, The Apocalypse is always nigh, drives the ache in the head of the unsung genius deeper as he circumnavigates the earth in his grey submarine, the soft green glow of a warhead within it.  He looks like a savior but he is disturbed, kept awake at night by angels hammering scenes of heaven […]

By admin Posted in Poetry on May 1, 2018 0 Comments Continue reading
Michael Wasson

SELF–PORTRAIT WITH TORN SHEETS of music: left to smolder the broken bed                 while the body is abandoned to the dream: bed sheets like a curtain                 of smoke: I’m rising like scent woven into the sweat collected &              smeared over my neck: a blue vein throbbing like a life-              rope—a way out of the dark: the […]

By admin Posted in Poetry on April 28, 2018 0 Comments Continue reading
Jessica Lanay 

A Poem About Loneliness This is a poem about loneliness, it is a self-conscious poem, a stomping through space poem, with not an ounce of poetic subtlety. I am not a poet who is good at burlesque, at gradually slipping off veils that billow seductively at some truth revealed, some secret— this is not a […]

By Tanner Haughn Posted in Poetry on May 14, 2018 0 Comments Continue reading
Lisa L. Moore

A CHURCH IN BRONZEVILLE a golden shovel for Gwendolyn Brooks my cupped hands full of honey, and you can’t see it there but it’s not a metaphor, we all came to a point like an artichoke heart, we knew how to pour warm sticky divinity beautifully into our hearts, how we knew is how we […]

By admin Posted in Poetry on May 23, 2018 0 Comments Continue reading

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