POETRY By William Jackson Lofton we know what is true, Christ did not destroy the stone but rolled it. turned over on a Sunday, i met a boy’s back begin­ning an early morning beg: claw at me here. his nose carries a hook a jeweler once knew. maybe this…

POETRY By Neil Flatman  For Matthew Wearing-in mourning’s lack­lus­ter suit, I took a walk: heather, like toffee-brittle Christ­mas trees, the copper edge of curling gorse illu­mi­nat­ing the way. You should’ve been here   a week ago. You said the Japan­ese had a phrase for it; Beauty in the…

POETRY By Heikki Huotari some animal con­cate­na­tions were more prob­a­ble than others      as intel­li­gent as any echo mech­a­nism my accelerom­e­ter at odds with my thought process­es the problem of hard solip­sism was not solved      I did not think to ask I…

POETRY By Kyle D. Craig If any­thing must fall on us, let it be morning. Tonight’s stories strike like knives through thick bone. I still cannot name half the places where bombs knelt last night. I know not every­one has access to ocean views, for many no forest waits to wander through, not…

FICTION By Michael Oatman and Jackson Smith Because every brother man’s life is like swing­ing the dice, right?   Pearson stretched out at the hos­pi­tal picnic table. His eyes forward. His hair slicked back. His new heart pumping, pumping, pumping. He had done well over this handful…

What do you write?  I’ve worked in Poetry, Cre­ative Non­fic­tion, and Fiction, but I con­sid­er poetry my genre. Is there an author or artist who has most pro­found­ly influ­enced your work?  Anne Sexton, Sylvia Plath, and Louise Glück are three pro­found influ­ences of mine. Each has an unmistakable…

POETRY By Sheila Black The rattler your husband impaled by bring­ing down his shovel, the body split in two, those twitch­ing parts. Frost killed the but­ter­fly weed and the orange tree. The prickly pear sprawled into slime, the wood splin­tered into apart­ment houses for ants and…

GENRE FICTION By Alan Cliffe Part One: Church­go­ing Men, 1945 Antoinette Timrod Tony didn’t seem like the other white guys at the El Dorado. I mean,  not just the obvious thing of being younger than his dad and uncles. He’d been over­seas for a few years, including…

What do you write? I write poetry and graphic novel scripts. Although I don’t stick to a spe­cif­ic genre for my poetry, if I had to pick one, it’d most likely be pop fiction or fiction-based poetry. That is, poetry that tells a story either as…

POETRY By Jessica Cohn A woman could forget herself, staring at pome­gran­ate in the produce section. Juicy red arils, peddled in see-through cups. It’s invol­un­tary. The mouth makes room for a sweet bite of seeds. A woman could remem­ber when pome­gran­ate was hard to come by, a strange…