MICHAEL CONNER | LOVE POEM FOR THE NEOLIBERAL AGE
Love Poem for the Neoliberal Age
I don’t want to be radicalized by terror.
I want to feed mourning doves
from the palm of my hand in spite of it.
AARON LELITO | MUD AND LOTUS
Mud and Lotus
Reading passages in the back seat
in a parking lot
after dark.
LIAM STRONG | OBJECTIVE TRUTHS, OBJECTIVE TRUTHS
objective truths??? objective truths.
like any fable your story
begins with a cup of soup
signifying goodness. positivity. as in:
the audience is prepared
for an unhappy ending.
ELLA GRIM | ACCIDENTAL SUMMONING, PARIS METRO
Accidental Summoning, Paris Metro
before I was told the unspoken rule
about not looking people in the eyes,
you were there on the bench at Oberkampf
HARLEY CHAPMAN | SELF-CARE SATURDAY
Self-Care Saturday
My knowing-better loops elbows
with fuck-it-I-don’t-care
& we choose a linen dress
that shows the silhouette of our ass
GLEN ARMSTRONG | HELP WANTED
Help Wanted
Can you help me find somebody to help me?
Somebody to love? Somebody to fix
a sink who won’t overcharge me? Enlarge
me? Make love to me as if waxing a car?
CAITLIN JOHNSON | TWO POEMS
Two Poems
"Diorama of A Life I Never Lived"
"How I Got Rid of My Mississippi Accent"
DEVON BALWIT | SPIRITS AND DIVINE FORCES
Spirits and Divine Forces
I’ve got the God-eye and shit,
he said in his ashwagandha t-shirt.
MAYA JACYSZYN | THE FIG TREE
The Fig Tree
We have figs this year
leading up to the weeks of your passing.
All my life, I knew trees that were barren,
ever since you planted them.
SHARMILA SEYYID | THREE POEMS
Three Poems
“I Am Composing a Song”
”Incompatible”
”That Ancient Village”
ROHAN BUETTEL | CLEARING OUT MY MOTHER’S HOME
Clearing out My Mother’s Home
The bowl perfectly new
in a cupboard full of things unused,
bought in anticipation
of a grandchild never delivered
TERRY JUDE MILLER | ART
Art
that’s one of the things it does
makes you think one thing
that leads to another thing
and soon the meadow is full
ERIN OLDS | WHILE YOU WERE AWAY
While You Were Away
and sometimes I got cozy in a cold shower, afraid
of the air outside waiting to wrap around wet skin. And after,
I’d leave the lights on each night. You weren’t home,
and I would think, safe is a pretty term, a feeling to dream.
WILL NEUENFELDT | SHE HAS NOTIFICATIONS SILENCED
She Has Notifications Silenced
One purple crescent
sent into sky
where my blue cloud
wafts above, alone,
aware it’s been seen
yet lingers to be heard.
ZOE ANTOINE-PAUL | ODE TO BOY IN NIGHTCLUB
Ode to Boy in Nightclub
All I want is to keep you,
but you are still on the dance floor
and New York City feels like coming down.
An ephemeral march between
pitch black
and too much morning.
LINDAANN LOSCHIAVO | BOARDWALK SODA FOUNTAIN SHOP
Boardwalk Soda Fountain Shop
I watched as you’d extend a palm beneath
A ripe banana, tenderly, as if
To ask permission. Or you’d let me tuck
Wildflowers into cleavage held aloft,
Slick, sweaty, suntan oiled, flecked with sand crumbs.
TRAVIS STEPHENS | RAISED BY WOLVES
Raised by Wolves
I shiver, understand as always
my teeth rotted and dull.
Even my father, that son of a bitch,
kept his bite until the end.
I was always ignored
last to marrow
flitching bits from
other’s old kills.
CAT DIXON | AFTER THE RELAPSE
After the Relapse
I will never know the zaftig bosom of a mother during a fever, incessant nag, the body swap, the unconditional love. We both lacked what we both lacked—both pulled into a whirlpool, a tornado, while everyone stood by and laughed or rubbernecked. Up ahead the cars will slow down for an accident. The firetruck, coppers, tow truck will spin lights. Perhaps help is only a call away.
MATTHEW ELLIS | FRENCH IMPRESSIONISTS
French Impressionists
I’ll plunge into the Loing or the Seine itself,
into ultramarine and cobalt blue
I’ll wade into the waters of Giverny,
lie amongst the water lilies
madder red and cadmium yellow against emerald,
violet waters
YVONNE MORRIS | NO REASON TO GET UP BUT GET UP
No Reason to Get Up but Get Up
hallowed and hollowed, richly bred for pain—
Anne and Sylvia shared a New York taxi in the rain,
discussed therapy and where they’d left their latest
lipstick stains.