Table for One
Amy Small-McKinney TABLE FOR ONE Chinatown lit up like a Christmas tree and being Christmas, with nowhere else to eat, I find the hand drawn noodle place, find heaven inside the soup like a sky filled with thick stars. I…
Amy Small-McKinney TABLE FOR ONE Chinatown lit up like a Christmas tree and being Christmas, with nowhere else to eat, I find the hand drawn noodle place, find heaven inside the soup like a sky filled with thick stars. I…
Joshua Kulseth LUNCH ON 59TH AND BROADWAY Stern, silly, or serene under green Columbus crowds collect in the hotdog summer: skaters grind to unpolished rock the marble fountain; a tailored few tuck ties behind starched shirts, anticipating stains; the old…
Jeneva Stone How I Explain Entanglement to My Husband I read this in a book on physics: nothing exists until it collides with something else. These fingers striking invisible sparks for instance off a keyboard while a sound traces patterns…
Hibah Shabkhez Zip Code You flow on, through zip code after zip code Laughing at borders and fences, scowling Only when they dam you. The winds erode The land for more silt to calm your howling Waves to a sweet…
Emma Bolden ARACHNE BEFORE THE GODS A summer sharp as venom, a warp and a weft and a woman’s work means always working. The gods weren’t listening because they were gods. I tried to tell them nonetheless. That even if…
by Courtney Hitson THE CLOCKS INSIDE ME One affixed to the wall and going since breakfast, another hung upstairs in autumn, a giant one ticking since I was born. And so many others. As if I’m living under a mobile…
by Siobhan Casey HER HAND: THE BRIDGE Isolation becomes a way of life, normalized over days, months, years. The rifts between you and him, her and them, become slot canyons or countries that shift, borderless and fractured. The cards you…
Two Poems by Ellen Gerneaux Woods MEDIAN I see you again today as I drive by on Powell north from San Pablo on my way home your face invisible under the dark beard hair protrudes densely from your head green…
Two Poems by Lindsay D’Andrea baptist pond meditation morning in the house above water, the air silvered purple beyond blinds. there are ways to forget, even here, where we start again. if i turn to one side, what’s left of…
Two Poems by Tarn Wilson TO THE ART MUSEUM GUARD I never see you walking up the stairs. You appear in rooms as if you were always there. You are in a monk’s cell. At the end of the day,…