Skip to Content
Search Results
Teresa Scollon

River, Page

By Teresa Scollon Look how you've carried these small bodies
across the ocean, looking for the next one
to hear the story. Look how gently you laid

these children down at the fire where stories are told.
Lauren K. Alleyne


By Lauren K. Alleyne Tonight you are full of small rivers:
your eyes’ salty runoff, the rust-bright
trickle staining your thigh, the unnamable,
Jill Khoury

Certain Seams

By Jill Khoury The boy across the street points at me and lisps—now I know what they mean in books
when they say children lisp. He wears a red and white striped t-shirt, addresses my friend who
walks beside me. I ask people to please walk on my left side. It’s the eye that’s not completely dead
Tara Shea Burke


By Tara Shea Burke When we met we fell for each other like leaves.
Behind black curtains your bedroom was always dark
except for unexpected soft-yellow walls. Your dogs
Saeed Jones

Nocturne: Beheaded

By Saeed Jones All throat now already brighter than the stars.
I could hold you in my song. Sotto voce, tremble
against me: a breeze slips in, cools my blood
Kevin McLellan

A constellation of mint

By Kevin McLellan The blur of
Elizabeth Hoover


By Elizabeth Hoover Ñuul, the teacher says and smacks his knee to show
where the stress falls. Ñuul, the children repeat each
starting at a different time so they sing a sour chord.
Leona Sevick


By Leona Sevick Instead, I spotted our mother in a tiny
chair in the back row, her blue-black head
shining unnaturally. She was dressed in
Sonja de Vries

A Response to “What’s Your Sexual Orientation?”

By Sonja de Vries Some days it’s in the grip of a hawk flying
up from the field, snake dangling from its mouth
writhing, writhing.
Marie-Elizabeth Mali

Oceanside, CA

By Marie-Elizabeth Mali Balancing on crutches in the shallows
near her mother, a girl missing her right lower leg
swings her body and falls, laughing.
Page 3 of 4 pages