Fall but one time I took a leaf that followed me home from 5th grade and I kept it in a pie dish that was never meant for pie but apple...

for Sinéad O'Connor “This disgusting world broke her and kept on breaking her.” -Shirley Manson Yellowjackets are social wasps feed their...

Sandbar, Person Lake We spent a day in sand between the bottom and the Further shore, dragging tanned feet, swaying in the Sigh of the...

CW: Abortion There are no birds on the highway. They don’t nest in streetlamps as the metal machines screech past, relentless as weather....

—you wrote about the bluebird. They snapped its neck. Then you wrote about the red-bellied woodpecker. But they plucked its feathers. So...

Aiyana is the author of the chapbook Stone Fruit (Bottlecap Press, 2020). Her poems have appeared in Cordella Press, Thimble Literary...

Tiny Reprieves There’s a goldfinch walking in the road daring cars to brake. Highways with faded yellow guardrails cutting through...

Scorpio Moon What I have been wanting to hear - I'm not afraid of you. I love the gaping, bottomless pit inside you I will not try to...

Family portrait of a passed pawn I feel as though my child has died she says but I cannot be dead because I am in check she has chased me...

My father is buried where crows can watch over they rattle and grate to the sky. They stand triangular in the sharp pinyon pines: they...

I held your hand when the Rigor mortis set in You were firm with me that day And my heart was soft and malleable As it slipped through...

Coaster. It’s faded somewhat, but something about it has always caught my eye. The grey skyline and traffic, against brown marshland and...

d.S. randoL (they/them) goes dancing on Friday nights sometimes. They fantasize about successfully harassing neighbors for games of...

grandpa's riverboat comes to a halt— coconut plantation the welcome drums at Ọmambala -- fragrant blossoms the eternal-rose you gave...

The rainfall at 4:30 am Early in the morning. Promised sleep is broken. Glory still intact in the rain. An old house, The roof that acts...

Certain tropes are dead. Crumpled up like paper And discarded, fallen off the table, gathering dust In a corner of the room. For example,...

With each straining breath, a part of him is lost, carried from his dying body, infusing in the molecules of the air around us. His face...

Worms I’m sure lose patience With rocks with moles with each other And weeds too must get antsy sometimes Because of trowels or other...

to wherever crows fly October ended. November rushed in with warm embrace. The autumn world smelled like spring. Deciduous trees stood...

I Still Give Myself Grace I pour out another non-alcoholic beverage for the suburbia where I used to force my head to lay. The tear...