spring 2020
Table of Contents
Return to Home PageFamily Dinner In Which I Re-name My Father Poem Containing Only Words I Hate griffin epstein
sold separately Lesley Battler
Breathturning Chris Checkwitch
How Do I Love Thee? Let Me Count the Nachos Jessica Covil
Communion of Tongues Hege A. Jakobsen Lepri
Six Gray Moons on a Screen Eleanor Kedney
A Twohanded Cut The Tornado Cut The Pandora Cut Torben Robertson
Another Vision Patricia Nelson
There Is No Substitute for Good Planning Erin Kirsh
Tchaikovsky, Age 52, Finds His Inspiration John Barton
blue light Stephanie Yue Duhem
Moon Turned Her Half Face From Me Lawrence Feuchtwanger
Humid Weather Me of Me Catherine Strisik
Monologue of a Fly's Shadow Monologue of a Cow's Shadow Danielle Hanson
A Symptom of Resignation The Gee Whiz Element of Tropical Storms and Symphonies Jen Karetnick
she is in the kitchen now Nora Pace
Like the best myths Medusozoa Sarah Lyons-Lin
Supermarket Lobsters Robbie Gamble
Stem of Old French Creistre, To Grow Of Stinging Nettle Page Hill Starzinger
Monologue of a Cow’s Shadow
—after Eduardo Corral
I raise my mouth to drink the sky,
while my master eats the earth.
We kiss sometimes. I plow.
My legs reach up and my
horns push into the ground.
Milk flows from me when my sky-baby
nestles, or the calloused hands of
sky-man tug. I run on fog. In the
hot afternoons, I stretch to see
how far I can wander from my master.
At dusk, I break free.