michelle somerville

Prodigal by Michele Madigan Somerville

When the clock strikes, the masks are delivered. I pause in a doorway, a shade, a champagne glass in my hand. Station stop: Build the pyramids. If you must petrify, think: [...]

September 2, 2016

De Stijl by Sarah Vernetti

September 2, 2016

Claire stands and struggles to find her balance. The walls, the floor, the ceiling converge as a single plane, the seams [...]
Unrecovered Poem by Samantha Madway

September 2, 2016

Rooms filthy from all the sorrow. Trashcans filled with tissues filled with snot. Dark circles dyed under every eye. Dead [...]
Familiar Stranger by Eva-Marie Sher

September 2, 2016

The crow on the horizon you see in the eyes of the Trappist… from The Battlefield Where the Moon Says I Love You by Frank [...]
No One Sees Until They’re Dead by Mary Julia Klimenko

May 29, 2016

Take me back to Italy where you threw my suitcase out of the third story window at midnight, and I screamed, “Fuck you.” [...]
Six Poems by Benjamin Blake

January 6, 2017

Old Bones Weary, bleary-eyed distraction Forever trying to make it home Shuffling ‘round the living room, slipper-clad [...]
Confessions of a Lunch Thief by Allie Marini Batts

December 1, 2013

I’m just like any other kind of criminal. I started small. In kindergarten. My life of crime can be traced back to a [...]
The Politicks of My Body by Jacklyn Janeksela

February 13, 2017

The politicks of my body goes like this. It’s none of your fucking business. My body is mine –whatever that means, but [...]
Prodigal by Michele Madigan Somerville

September 2, 2016

When the clock strikes, the masks are delivered. I pause in a doorway, a shade, a champagne glass in my hand. Station stop: [...]
Sheboygan County, Wisconsin No.1 by John Dorsey

June 1, 2015

a kid jacking another kid in the face outside the elementary school an old man in a fur coat carrying a dollhouse [...]
Leah’s Other Self by Daniel Thompson

February 1, 2014

The first shouts come from her little sister. “Leah, Leah, Leah.” She hears her sister but convinces herself another [...]
Killing My Grandmother’s Grandaughter and other poems by Kanika Lawton

January 25, 2017

I think my body will always be an euphemism for apology, always too tall or too short or too wide or too thin. My hips [...]
here is a list of things you left behind by Alison Leigh Znamierowski

January 4, 2016

10) purple clovers plucked & siphoned by hungry mouths on summer walks, discarded into roadside fields 9) a missing [...]