by Lena Ziegler and I want someone to notice my skin sewn crooked from patches of light I know women embarrassed to be naked in the presence of no one no one a self they have selved into being I know a man whose bones linger exposed whose muscles tense when touched I know a … Continue reading In Ohio There Is a Window Always Open
by Lena Ziegler I’m in the mood for saline/the fog of lower backcan you smell it on me/wring want from melon-airwhen April comes I imagine knowing again& the daily work of take & breathe will behallways, stillborn & whisperingI’m in the mood for Christmas lights/wreathes shapedlike swallowing/& you/& you/& youto fuck me something holyI want … Continue reading October Comes New Skin Itch
by Jacinta Carter your tongue in my mouthtasting what I cannot sayconsuming my words your fingers on minesliding down to grab my wristsbruising my pale skin your teeth in my fleshreleasing my sigh of painbegging to be hurt your hand on my throattrapping your name in my mouthholding me in place taking what you wantunleashing … Continue reading A Lustful Haiku
by Kelly Stacy Let us pay the bill on time, let us walk to the grocery store together, let us order more shelves for that space in our living room, between the radiator and the wall, let’s give it some purpose, let’s fill it with all our small totems, let’s do brunch on Saturday morning, … Continue reading Adoration
by Kelly Stacy I woke up this morning & was over Kelly Glen Stacy, burdened with his dry skin & squirming thoughts, so I threw on a light jacket & the air was as fresh as it was gonna get & I walked a few miles for a sandwich & lemonade cause sometimes even I … Continue reading Self Portrait
by Kelly Stacy It snowed this morning and with the temperature’s slow rise turned to rain, the thin sleet sheets hung around till one, then faithfully they gave themselves over to the constant patter and I am up to 1848 in People’s History of the World, it has never been a good year for the … Continue reading Wednesday in February
by Katie Pukash My voice is a hieroglyph hunting for a cave to call home. I cut my hair for this. I have seen all my mother’s untouched jewelry. I have worn out the family noose by tying knots around everything that is swollen. There is a nightlight in my childhood bedroom without a bulb. … Continue reading Haircut
by Katie Pukash mine is nothing but stain-each carving a little less.can’t say too much about the carpenterwhen the carpenter holds the only chisel.pliers for eyes-he will call you Floorboard andClaw hammer and Screwdriver and Sin-will knock at your throatuntil there is nothing but screws.stained and sealed-Mouth Wide and Shut.he won’t come back to search-not … Continue reading The Carpenter’s Son
by Katie Pukash The days seem to slide together like a slammed door.I swear anxiety sits hostage in my marrow.There is not enough red wine in the worldto solve the problem that is my chest.Does my trauma have a name?Should I give my trauma a name?If I name my trauma will she follow me like … Continue reading Light Blubs
The Pontiac in this universe,the guitars are lostskulking under bed sheetswatching rain fallthrough a windowin this universe,we take turnsdriving(almost) endlesslyi love the cari love the privacyurgent intimacyin this universeyou’ll tell meeverythingi’ll learn half-truthswe’ll never get tired I Came Here to Be Alone baby, i think of youlike Coca-Cola chilling in the fridgeso fondly, like a … Continue reading Four Poems by Stephanie Valente
Dream Noir 