Kevin Carr I’ve started diving more into Southern Soul music lately. And during this exploration I reintroduced myself to King Curtis’s...

Dylan Healy “I want to make you cry,” he says. As if the past year alone weren’t reason enough to shed a tear or two, New Haven indie...

Kerry Feltner I envision myself in a golden orb before I leave my house in the morning. My arms close to my sides, I close my eyes and...

Christopher Miguel Flakus My name is Diego Monterola, but it’s possible you have heard of me by another name. I wouldn’t say I’m famous....

Rose Malone On a hot August day in Zurich, Alice sat by the lake, reading. Money sparkled in the sun. Weariness inhabited her limbs. She...

Lizzie Davydov . There was something to be said about the poetic injustice of the waves crashing and grabbing onto her ankles without...

Matt Gillick The year is 2012 and I’m in a parking lot at the Seven Corners Shopping Center in Fairfax, Virginia. On my car radio, I’d...

Laura Rosenthal Drained My wife said it would be like with the dog, how months later I would still find her hair everywhere—but all year...

Harry Lowther Her door was closed. A couple of inches of thin, cheap wood painted white, flaking a little. A stab of yellow grain exposed...

Jane Harrington He couldn’t say how he knew it was snowing. The feeling was a seeping-in, an efflorescence. Then the Star-Child came to...

Amanda J. Crawford I remember the golden grass under our blanket and the way the light made the withered blades and our bold young flesh...

Jerome Daly You came to me again last night— I was toweling your hair after a bath. Eyes closed, no words or whimper, A heavy weight in a...

John L. Stanizzi I know noble accents And lucid, inescapable rhythms; But I know, too, That the blackbird is involved In what I know....

Juan Pablo Mobili Despedirse, “to say goodbye” Your ashes will weigh less than your skeleton bones don’t blow in the wind like ashes do...

David Epstein Not words alone pleased her. —Milton And when the orchard breathes its bitter apples back at me, the rain runs all the ink...

Justin Jannise I am jealous of “my twin”— the phrase, not the person. I do not have a twin as far as I’m aware but Emily does and when...

Suzanne Ondrus Like bandits, the wise ones cover their eyes, noses, and mouths, stealing the dust’s power.

Garth Myers It shouldn’t take a war to remember the dead It shouldn’t even take a day The dead are all around us below us above Us inside...

Margaret Gibson Once there were women who read books in trees. Beneath a green canopy, balanced or precariously settled, we read a litany...