Category: Archives

  • “How a lake flash-froze a herd of horses” by Erin L. McCoy

    2019-2020 Poetry Contest Second Place

  • “how to fold a stone” by Nicole Oquendo

    “how to fold a stone” by Nicole Oquendo

    2019-2020 Poetry Contest Third-Place    this farm has taught me how to fold a stone with words, a whisper from a couch, not stretched out but so upright it hurts the back, straining, i leave this behind

  • “To Begin, a Dear Reader” by Erika Hodges

    “To Begin, a Dear Reader” by Erika Hodges

    2019-2020 Poetry Contest Winner This is an arrival of the found. A multiplicity of layouts on many different timelines. I have tried to distill what may be useful. What may be read like a blueprint.

  • Featured Art: Edward Supranowicz

    Featured Art: Edward Supranowicz

  • “Familiar” by Jill Bronfman

    “Familiar” by Jill Bronfman

    Enter La Basílica de la Sagrada Família Past the glories of art and color and light There is a tower It is dark inside, and the path is difficult

  • Featured Art: Brett Stout

    Featured Art: Brett Stout

  • “The Morning After” by K. M. Huber

    “The Morning After” by K. M. Huber

    A hummingbird quivers near the open window— a brown violetear, Colibri delphinae, flashes glimpses of its emerald throat, dips into flowers—buries itself in a trembling bloom while I answer the phone.

  • “Not Barcelona” by Jill Bronfman

    “Not Barcelona” by Jill Bronfman

    Gaudí tapped me on the shoulder in the nearly-finished Casa Batlló and asked me if I liked the center atrium. Having been raised in a farmer’s stucco house, I thought I’d say it was beautiful. Artists always seek beauty, right? Before I could remember how to say beautiful in Catalan, he started up again about…

  • “Flare Stack Eden” by Katherine Hoerth

    “Flare Stack Eden” by Katherine Hoerth

    You can smell it like a snake, from miles away— this Eden made of benzene, naphthalene and gasoline. The smokestack garden never rests; it works through day and night like any forest does. It turns the blood of earth into the fuel that makes it sing this dusk chorus of whistles, bells, and whooshing flame.

  • “One Art” by GTimothy Gordon

    “One Art” by GTimothy Gordon

    … something beyond themselves, beyond words. -Celan-   There’s a scent that can’t be defined like breathless painting, music, dance unplowed yet into sentient fields,    graphic grey-mists hovering water,   that won’t be read or turned to tongue