spring 2020
Table of Contents
Return to Home Pageshe is in the kitchen now Nora Pace
A Twohanded Cut The Tornado Cut The Pandora Cut Torben Robertson
blue light Stephanie Yue Duhem
Humid Weather Me of Me Catherine Strisik
A Symptom of Resignation The Gee Whiz Element of Tropical Storms and Symphonies Jen Karetnick
Another Vision Patricia Nelson
Like the best myths Medusozoa Sarah Lyons-Lin
Family Dinner In Which I Re-name My Father Poem Containing Only Words I Hate griffin epstein
Six Gray Moons on a Screen Eleanor Kedney
There Is No Substitute for Good Planning Erin Kirsh
Supermarket Lobsters Robbie Gamble
Tchaikovsky, Age 52, Finds His Inspiration John Barton
Stem of Old French Creistre, To Grow Of Stinging Nettle Page Hill Starzinger
Communion of Tongues Hege A. Jakobsen Lepri
Wrestlers Barry Peters
Breathturning Chris Checkwitch
Moon Turned Her Half Face From Me Lawrence Feuchtwanger
Monologue of a Fly's Shadow Monologue of a Cow's Shadow Danielle Hanson
sold separately Lesley Battler
How Do I Love Thee? Let Me Count the Nachos Jessica Covil
Wrestlers
Matted down among other coupled boys
in cotton T-shirts, polyester shorts.
Heat. Breath. Dollar aftershave. Rub of skin
and muscle. Tangled in forbidden contact,
we can’t stop laughing, exhausting
the patience of Coach McKee.
The absurdity of touching my best friend.
The intimacy of holding his wrist.
What we learn in gym class: not the hip throw
or headlock, not the cradle or high crotch
but the counter-move. Deflection. Reversal.
When the girls return from summer, they hug.
Not us. Our eyes meet. We nod. We escape.