Joy Moore White Squirrel Joy Moore lives in Tennessee, where, for the last fifteen years, she has taught undergraduate writing and interdisciplinary courses, designed and managed two coffee shops, and [...]

Kimberly Kralowec I Knew the Flavor of Apple, but Not Its Sweetness A year east of today, the word ash was singular. I had notyet decided to spend lockdown cleaning [...]

Denise Duhamel Impossible Sophie Calle, with her mom’s permission, set up a camera to film her last breath, not knowing, of course, when it would come. I can’t bring [...]

Andrew Hemmert Death Has a Thousand Pictures in the World After a line by Brigit Pegeen Kelly Of a common swallow. Of a common swallow split open, and the [...]

Robin Gow Do I Want to Decompose Like This? Time-lapse decomposition videos comfort me. The busy work of worms and flies that come and go like beads. In the [...]

Bill Hollands Queen for a Day I’m nobody’s idea of butch,not especially swishy either –middle-of-the-road gay, I guessyou could say. But this one day –I’m twenty, maybe twenty-one,a bit forlorn [...]

John A. Nieves Ligatures We knew the mossy side of the trees would guide us to the cabin, up the long forking path, switching back hard enough to turn any [...]

Kirun Kapur On Returning to Your City with Your Ashes The river—dark and silver— shrunk to a ribbon in its bed, drones and pigeons soared above the minarets and [...]

Samantha Padgett  My mother tells me my poems should rhyme and I tell her there are 100 billion planets in the Milky Way and it’s pretty obnoxious to write [...]

Justin Hunt The Summer We Left For Reid, Greg, Eddie, Leonard, Spunky, Ron, Tony and Phil After shutting out the locals, we loaded up our bats and found a [...]

Emma Thomas Jones The Company Sign First it was honeybees. Thousands of them, coughed up into tissue blooms: cylindrical workers & fat drones more orange than yellow, curled like [...]