Margaret Ray
Margaret Ray March 13th, 1993: Jacksonville Airport & the Storm of the Century The airport: Saturday, after the funeral. We move, then we wait, [...]
Richard Spilman
Richard Spilman Old Tropes The old tropes have died. Not just roses, whose cover was blown before the turn of the last century, nor columbines and swains— the stars have [...]
Catherine Wing
Catherine Wing Diptych I. Coventry Road What’s the force that pulls light into a pointed star? Is it time or is it art—or both—squinting into focus. What is it that [...]
Nora Bonner
Nora Bonner Miss Thailand Country Band Lek waited forty-five minutes in the university garden before he accepted that his student wasn’t coming for a guitar lesson. Each lesson was worth [...]
Samuel Piccone
Samuel Piccone Black Velvet after Andrew Wyeth To the deer in the jacklit valley, it’s too late. I’m squeezing this trigger and it [...]
Katie Schmid
Katie Schmid Apple Glory In my front yard a man in a bulldozer has dug a grave. They say it’s for a fire hydrant. It looks sepulchral— a ladder descends [...]
Tara Deal
Tara Deal Mirror Finish I have a bit of metal sculpture in my bedroom. One palm-sized, smooth, shiny, aluminum, elephant-headed Hindu god from India on the nightstand. Minimal design on [...]
Cade Leebron
Cade Leebron Fork Theory Imagine that when you wake up in the morning you are handed a bunch of literal metal spoons and each of them represents an amount [...]
Kelly Grace Thomas
Kelly Grace Thomas Life/Boat The sea counts the coast- line. Bodies erase. Don’t worry. Your mother will always live inside the house you built for her. The earth hatches in [...]
Liz Howey
Liz Howey The Boy Whitney calls on Thursday, unscheduled. It’s pleasant until Tom picks up, until Whitney announces that the step-father caught the boy vomiting. Tom wants to thank her [...]
Jessica Guzman Alderman
Jessica Guzman Alderman The Visible World Our-Fathers start when the plane drops two, three times against the wind and whatever lightning elbows back. Surely someone hears the press of fingers [...]
John Blair
John Blair Blue When you were a bird you wanted anything but blue. The woods were broken [...]