Category Archives: Poetry

Lesley Hart Gunn Trying not to Turn it isn’t natural for the human body to reject the sun. we are conditioned to yearn for the outstretched rays like the handprint of a god on our unworthy heads, but the moon … Continue reading →

Josh Pearce Mare Tranquillitatis a man dreamed of walking on the moon but when he looked back at the path trod said to god i see only one set of footprints in the dust why did you leave during the … Continue reading →

Anna Cates Porphyria’s Lover She is his summer fruit and autumn harvest— He tastes in her the change in seasons spring grass in cow’s milk first dandelions in her blood even the moon full and mesmerizing on thawing lake water … Continue reading →

Gemma Cooper-Novack   Marriage: The golem I came back to you / gun like one of your fingers clinging to pink doorframe / I screamed when you slithered around me / loose skin on my arms flaccid between teeth / … Continue reading →

Kathleen S. Burgess On Mars   Alien, and lonely in this cold, distant world, I’m blue while the crimson sun of desire slumps over a Midwest harvest of sere spines and ears of corn, skeletal soybeans leaving behind dry stubs, … Continue reading →

Robert Frazier My Bone Whisperer   As we circumnavigate Como Bluff A glow reddens the seer’s face Her vision folds into the anticline Layers of these formations Ripe with vertebrate remains She reads their hidden mysteries Haunts their fossil trails … Continue reading →

Ann Thornfield-Long An Exposure of Evolution    The sun drives all of us worshipers to the shore where wind cools us beneath the pale shade of plants.   Easing our bodies into and out of the sea, we find treasures … Continue reading →

Faith Allington If There Are Horses Now   For years you said little and wrote less   for years you were haunted by loves you’d lost   the ghosts of friends the mistakes you’d made   the inadequacies of being … Continue reading →

John C. Mannone Pearls in Galactic Oysters   Dredge the depths of black for sparkles in sands of space and time. Galaxies, as oysters, clump in clusters with glue of gravity. Pry them open; savor their secrets. Some are plump … Continue reading →

Larina Warnock It Didn’t Fall in a Day   The last shade tree in Terafel shimmied like the last desert dancer who had, days before, closed eyelids of a dozen lovers, dying one after another in a shower of sky … Continue reading →