Kathy Fish "The Once Mighty Fergusons"

One rocked himself to sleep every night, banging his head against the wall. One who'd been beaten for clogging the toilet, took to shitting behind the garage. The youngest one had night terrors.

Meghan Phillips "The One Who Wasn’t Attacked, Goes to Help the One Who Was - Five Jaws Erasures"

The town killed

Safe as the Fourth of July,

       as going home again.

Something to hide,

     to listen to.

Brandon Marlon "Two Poems"

Dragon's blood tree boughs stretch upwards

from a grove in the limestone plain, well within

view of red granite peaks whitened by lichen

and towering above snails, beetles, lizards,

and freshwater crabs, endemic denizens

of an archipelago isolated in space and time.

Donna Vorreyer "Two Poems"

One more touch and I’m

up, stepping over dog toys, walking

with the hitch and stutter of age, with

the familiar tingle of nerves that spiders

its way down my arm, into my hand.

Interview: Rachel Pastan

I love writers like Anne Enright who convey the textures of ordinary life with a kind of magic that makes you feel every atom, and writers like Margaret Atwood (in books like The Year of the Flood) who make you feel what it might be like to inhabit a hypothetical future. These writers are in my head all the time. I try to live up to them as best I can.

Marcy McNally "Five Poems"

Sausalito houseboat sitting,

alone, waiting, chilled, abating

the foggy, groggy morning,

rocking on the deck of creaking

boards in a dilapidated chair,

fragments of a soggy, buttery

brioche chased back with yesterday’s

Blue Bottle latte

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