Poetry
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.