Come On Now

by Jeffrey Cyphers Wright Evening stoops under its sodden shawl. A siren broods; its caterwaul snarling over blackened roofs. Someone’s on the run. Wet tires whisper to Avenue C. “I’m lost without you,” they swear. I wanted to be a matador in Manhattan, dancing with horns. I wanted to be a genie smoking in your

Title in Search of a Better Life

by Sarah Sarai “Pantyliner Notes.” It’s yours, my hands are washed for at least twenty seconds. “Girl with a Pearl Jam Earring.” “Tess of the Rosenthals.” Confidence lost in bluster is gained by belief in cohesion. Sense is altogether different and who cares not me. “Dombey and Son from Another Mother.” “A Midsummer Night’s Cream.”

Sonnet of Goodbye

by Reneé Salandy against the backdrop of a cradled moon footprints across the sky—they gone too soon and galaxies like shutters from within eclipse the earth and block the devil’s sin what happens to black souls after the day? botham, atatiana, freddie gray philando must’ve greeted them with food known as one to be far


by Sarah Nichols I am the girl who had my mouth sewn shut. I whir in swarms, all teeth and unquiet, my whole body, all shrieking, all radioactive, a ray of night. I am the woman collating bones. A nervous system brought back to life, a little disaster burned up; a trigger of childhood, a

day 41

by Paul Robert Mullen and most folkstayed at home // followed the rulesprayed for an end in sighttook up new hobbiesbinged on Netflixhad a lie-in (or two)spent valued time with the kidstook a deep breath // time to stare at the wallsmade phone-calls they’d been meaning                to make for monthsstarted to write (…there’s a book in

Peter and the Wolf

by Joseph Mills Most dances are sexual,pretend otherwise                                        all you want, but there’s also the violence,the alpha aggression                    and animalistic desire, which we appreciateeven applaudas long as its stylish,                                                  rhythmic,coupled                                    with the music. Let’s be honest.                                         No one wantsto be Peter. Even the Wolf fantasizesabout being the Wolf. Joseph MillsJoseph Mills, A faculty member at the University of North


by Bruce McRae Print neatly or not at all Name: My name is Legion. Address: That which cannot be found. Age: Time is relative to motion. Sex: Inexorable. Education: St Gary’s School for the Marred. Previous employment: Carrier of water, hewer of stone. Keeper in a dark tower. Qualifications: I am that I am. References:

At Home, After A Miscarriage

by Cathy McArthur Today I’ll sleep– comforter, flowered nightgown—dark beneath. At the hospital, three interns lifted sheets and peered inside me. One said, “incomplete;” I didn’t think it could be me, but covered myself with a sheet under the overhead light. Before then, alone, I tossed lingerie in the sink, the water ran around with