wk lawrence

Groceries and other poems by WK Lawrence

Your passing wind captures me Gently mistakes me for another cold heart Like the ones you find in the frozen foods section Sorting through processed fish Comparing prices Or [...]

July 20, 2017

San Juans by Dede Cummings

From here she can see no islands, only a mountain beyond water mostly purple-black and defying the orange-spreading sky. [...]
Three Poems by Ariel Francisco

Self Portrait With Moths After Rain Moths stumble through dusk, descending towards the glow of a glimmering lamppost [...]
Thirty by Rachel Harrison

At the age of 24 you will take a good long look in the mirror and realize that your face is asymmetrical. You won’t [...]
Three Poems by Andrea Lawler

Life is a Book Written by Bukowski Sitting in the car in the sweltering heat in the hospital parking lot waiting for my [...]
Vending Machine Press Issue #14

Photo by: Johannes Huwe The very fine writers for issue 14 are: Summer Storm and Birds by Jason Brightwell I Want To Be Like [...]
Stomped Full of the Great Because and other poems by Claire Kelly

Reasons followed her pretty-girl looks like the bows on a kite tail. Her dad taught her to shoot, showed her pictures of [...]
Six Poems by Daniel Burttram

Another Draw She waits for him in their car, out in the parking lot, hoping that a train won’t pass—cutting through [...]
Like Breath, Like Air by Mari Pack

Oh, for fuck’s sake when I die, don’t tell them I was full of life say instead, that I was air and that I swept [...]
Two Poems by Helen Wickes

January Dazzle What did we know then—clock ticking, spilled salt, and that one faucet— bitterly, bitterly. The heart [...]
Out on the Eastern Slopes and other stories by Steve Passey

My Grandfather hunted. My father hunted. Everyone we knew hunted. Everyone knew someone on the reserve. A treaty card allows [...]
End Times by Amy Saul-Zerby

I am a bridal registry at a sex shop. You are a plane crash. I am the dental records used to identify your corpse. Our teeth [...]
New Place by Rebecca Guest

The promise of newly painted walls lining empty rooms, a kind of hubris that sings up your arms, popping goosepimples of [...]