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Vol. XXIII | 2023

by Summer Eves

Once, you watched a boy who serenaded you / in a high school classroom do a line of coke off of a coffee table / at a house party. The memory of it returns to you on an errand run / done after a visit to your parents' house in your hometown.


Vol. XXIII | 2023

by Sarah Reynolds

It's me. A PlayMobil pirate / Resting on my ship in the corner of the harbor / In Ocean Park. The 260s. / Below deck, I cup my ear desperately, / Trying to hear the girls upstairs in the unfinished attic room. / They are teaching each other

by Julia Cooper

Summer solstice / the first day of shorts / pale jittery legs awaiting / the inevitable burn

by Tanya Williams

My father’s hands are brown. / Brown, like old leather books. / Brown and tanned by the Spanish sun.

by Ruth Fleisher

Maybe you think / you do. / But you don’t / know me. / How could you? 

by Sarah Monfort

Round and round / We danced together. / Hot and biting. / Twirling. / Swirling.

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