Category Archives: Poetry

Louis Faber Cassiopeia   You sit on your self-made throne and stare at the night sky as clouds gather and dissipate beneath you. Do you even recall why you were cast out, condemned to your cell so vast yet infinitely … Continue reading →

Anna Bates Orc   None would speak to me but the outcast from the village, worn and weary, scented of weed-lore and brimstone, always busy by the cauldron at her hearth. They said of me no heart . . . … Continue reading →

Cathrin Hagey Grimm Brothers Ltd.   Ball gown, robin’s egg blue with silver stars, patch-girl dress, matching head scarf, willow broom, silver hands, scarlet cloak, rusty kisses, shoulder-clasping bluebird, fresh sex-laced apple, ripe peach, wolf’s forked tongue, plump oozing frog, … Continue reading →

Sara Backer At Last, Clarity   The radiologist slaps the negative on the wall and shines light on my condition. I gaze into furling gray stripes meant to be my heart. No—it’s a larger mystery, a weave of light and … Continue reading →

  Katharyn Howd Machan He saw   she didn’t mind the broken roses, the old chocolates scattered on the gold-rimmed plate. All was glitter here. All was gleam. The market had called her from an unknown place and her eyes … Continue reading →

Joshua Gage Song of the Fisherman’s Wife   This evening, when I peer out the screen at dusk, with the pink light of sun still caught in the spiral shell of the horizon’s clouds, I come undone. I whistle the … Continue reading →

S. Blackthorn Riddle In Which One Partakes in Their Own Disappearance on the Eve of Halloween   Soon I will slip into the time of apples And costumed creatures gathering under street lamps Counting the spoils of twilight’s bounty. Damp … Continue reading →

  Devin Miller The Fisherwoman and the Queen of Gulls I‌ ‌love‌ ‌a‌ ‌woman‌ ‌whose‌ ‌feet‌ ‌are‌ ‌stone-scarred‌ ‌ on‌ ‌sharp-sheared‌ ‌beach‌ ‌granite.‌ She‌ ‌cries‌ ‌with‌ ‌the‌ ‌gulls,‌ is‌ ‌razor-tempered‌ ‌as‌ ‌a‌ ‌swan.‌ Her‌ ‌hair‌ ‌is‌ ‌tangled,‌ ‌part‌ ‌feathers,‌ part‌ … Continue reading →

Ann K. Schwader Red Waking (Olympus Mons)   Our nightmares have turned seismic here beneath the shadow of this lost volcano raised above its planetary rivals. Grief of molten eons, layered myth explained by stalled tectonics occupy our lives in … Continue reading →