All meat is tenderized the same way. /Good meat is beat lifeless before you eat.
I have a blind date with destiny:/ no doubt I won’t be recognized.
I find what wants to come through when I practice paying attention: leaning into discomfort, softening into vulnerability, listening to the conversations of strangers, taking in the natural world.
The nitrogen in our DNA, the calcium in our teeth, the iron in our blood, the carbon in our apple pies were made in the interiors of collapsing stars. We are made of starstuff. ― Carl Sagan, Cosmos We were born of carbon. The human body is made of it, with carbon surpassed only by… Continue reading “Apotheosis” by Ainsley Pinkowitz
I listen to a door open its robe to a street full enough to be a sky too cruel to be a sky we were never lonely just a fire in need of heat I want to be a wind and wake an ocean to be a street then chase out all the water the… Continue reading “Night Songs” by Wale Owoade
I looked up and saw the wrong thing. I walked over and did something bad. I mean, I felt bad about it afterward. We were fifteen when we learned to stop talking about what we really mean. It was an exercise in driving our care to the dump. Shoving it out of the car and… Continue reading “What Happened to Winona Ryder” by Erin McIntosh
I dreamed myself blind in a burned-black room the curtains blowing the scents of autumn’s end— caramel smoke, with an edge of chill, of rain, of endings, and then sweet softness your gentle bearded cheek sliding alongside my body until your mustache rested on my upper lip and the cool mint of your tongue slid… Continue reading “After Two Months” by Kris Bigalk
The machine is broken, they tell me when I arrive but to get changed anyway because it won’t be too long which is why 2 ½ hours later and really late for work I’m pissed off. The waiting room is packed now the 9 am people, like myself have mingled with the 10 and the… Continue reading “Radiation Day 4” by Ally Malinenko
After a photograph by Katie Pearce The girl lies in her stark white dress. The grass the unreal green velvet of spring. March buds push from the trees. Everything becoming— everything alive except the girl. She is a pearl on display in a jeweler’s window. Clouds dapple the ground around her. Years from now she… Continue reading “Death, Sleep, Beauty” by Shaindel Beers
Fanny Says, Nickole Brown's hilarious and touching poetry collection centering around her grandmother, is garnering all sorts of praise. Fanny Says, Julie Marie Wade writes in The Rumpus, "is in essence one long poem—138 pages—chambered like a heart and pumping language like blood to every stanza throughout this single, vital organ." In the Oxford American, Parneisha Jones writes… Continue reading “I won’t make excuses for them, and I won’t make excuses for myself, either”: An Interview with Nickole Brown