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The formula that we found is that the body must make the minimum movement between the maximum number of poses. We created a vocabulary of these poses, and we would go from one pose to the next pose to the next pose as fast as possible. We called it Expressive Idiocy. —Slava Polunin Huffy Henry…

Like a scorpion that hears through the night the velvet steps of a caravan far, far away, I hear you – I hear you entering the future without me. You disappear into the labyrinths between the walls of water of the parted sea, into blue and green streets of rearing waves. Skyscrapers of water hang…

    Angelo Ligori is from Detroit, Mi, where he works as a union concrete finisher. He received his MFA in Creative Writing from the University of Nevada, Las Vegas. His poems can be seen in Witness, CPR, and Interim.

W O R K   orders: i. form the rat wall– w/ in our common working lan– guage ii. be low the frost line we dig– broken english     Angelo Ligori is from Detroit, Mi, where he works as a union concrete finisher. He received his MFA in Creative Writing from the University of…

Witchy and Wonderful   The plants that converge to your vegetable garden are showing all things yours are forsaken. It is erroneous you and I are connected by flesh, tight by hurricanes and lulling waves, evenings brightened with no ecstasy. My words have kept you alive the ways you imagined. Or now you’ve become the…

transom ambush   [|]    the window red is window    [|]    reading blood    [|]  a brooding wind      [|]      proposes something in a swarm  of silk  [|]  out there  [|]  is a breathing task  [|]  to squint  the throat for something calm      [|]      inhales darkness …

waiting room   chandelier light drops frames homesick and hungover an animatronic ocean in near-broken gestures a reservoir wanting a vestibule    atrium collects rain trees shake off     Skin   in a left handed house Vaseline blurs a stray French bob and half-beauty crowding the street with suicide ideation upholstering wasn’t up for…

The kitten, a pot-bellied calico with rickety legs, couldn’t have been more than four weeks old. It was the only one to detach itself from the litter and waddle toward me. I was kneeling on the uneven stony surface outside the rusty metal fence enclosing a cluster of low mound-like graves. The litter evidently claimed…

I was eleven when Scooter’s people moved next door. Scooter’s father, Butch, was a plumber and a cowboy, volunteering with the sheriff’s mounted posse unit. Linda was Scooter’s stay-at-home mother, looking after a pregnant springer spaniel. Krista and Thomas were Scooter’s teenage siblings. I was too young for their company. Four years old, Scooter was…

When I went out, I looked around to see who was wearing a mask. Not many people had their face covered; most were cavalier about risk. I pulled on my mask and swung onto my bicycle saddle. The bike rolled smoothly, and the cloth covering didn’t bother me; I could almost forget about the face…