My Mother’s Photograph
My mother kept her cup of gin nearby.
She had sex in the afternoon. Habit kept
order, swept the floors, ironed the pillowcases,
kept the light on and made her death little by little.
Continue reading My Mother’s Photograph by Cheryl Heineman
but human life is confined in a glass box
draped in a black curtain;
there’s nothing behind it.
but it’s our audacity that makes us try
Continue reading Vivarium by K.J. Williams
A WIND MACHINE FOR ORANGES UP NORTH
When asked about
the last orange grove in Orange County –
I am at a loss.
Continue reading Two Poems by Karen An-hwei Lee
In the dark times, will there also be singing?
Yes. There will also be singing. About the dark times. – Bertolt Brecht
You’ve been thinking about the gold rim
of a priest’s robe, a glimpse of light caught
while turning the pages of a book
about ancient Egypt.
You’ve been traveling with a headlight
in the backyards and bedrooms
of a sunken city, somewhere
near the center of the Mediterranean sea.
Continue reading Song by Marine Cornuet
Caring Is Still Creepy
Is there a pill to make me not be this?
(I’m asking for a friend.) Continue reading Caring Is Still Creepy and Modest Mouse B-Side by C.J. Miles