sun

the sun shouts at us in tongues and other poems by William James

The sun shouts at us in tongues through the tower window. Calls us by name & we hide ourselves from its gaze. From the plague of crows circling en masse. They carried our [...]

January 20, 2017

post-inauguration poem by Shy Watson

February 6, 2017

it is a saturday night i am at a strip mall dunkin donuts in south philadelphia in my pajamas i am Irrationally Mad about [...]
Part of the Same Being by Nina Ficenec

February 1, 2015

We decided to cut out of the mill early, grab a case of beer and just drive, drive, Jay’s knuckles white against the [...]
lights, camera, action and other poems by Amy Saul-Zerby

January 13, 2017

lights, camera, action in a room as quiet as yours is today there is space into which expansion may occur when a house is [...]
Queen City by Richard Luftig

October 1, 2014

If the world comes to an end, I want to be in Cincinnati. Everything comes there ten years later. – Attributed to Mark [...]
John and the Rainbow Whatever by Christopher DiCicco

January 4, 2016

John understood the rainbow, which is why he kept his hands on the red. He waited until it hurt, until he felt the colors [...]
Two Poems by Helen Picard

February 1, 2015

Rusty Rood From the second floor window, the red roof of the house next door reflected A strange, rusty glow at twilight. In [...]
Two Poems by Betsy Martin

September 2, 2016

The Biosphere This storm is strange for Tucson, the frigid rain sprayed down the way the gardener hoses bird excrement from [...]
The Season Finale by Carly Berg

February 1, 2014

George, I realized as we turned onto our street, had ruined my life. His eagerness to play big provider made it too easy to just be a mother. Our daughter barely looked up from chatting with her new dorm mates when I waved good-bye. Now I was nothing. <a href=""> Read More... [...]
A Small Bestiary Within by Raphael Maurice

February 18, 2019

[A Small Bestiary Within] They want a sweet country boy, tender, true as hell. At least they seem to, they do, until [...]
Three Poems by Sarah A. O’Brien

March 19, 2016

This Isn’t a Poem About Cold Hands my hands are cold at the moment (when aren’t they, really), so they look purple (this [...]
Homeward and other poems by MJ Santiago

June 13, 2017

I thought I remembered digging into your soft sides, dripping splinters on the ground. And after that a hole remained. We [...]
Four Poems by Justin Hyde

December 1, 2014

after your best friend’s wedding we stood naked in front of the hotel mirror arms behind each other’s backs marveling at [...]