The Art of Disassociation
By Eli Claredrift
lose time
gain time
Calling poets to a greater role in public life and fostering a national network of socially engaged poets.
By Liza SparksWhen a ponderosa pine
is over one hundred—
it sheds a layer of bark.
By Joselia Rebekah HughesBlack able rack able
hack able tack able
lack able slack able
By Liv MammoneThe train is a creature that moves like water.
It has no eyes, only a sharp
mouth that closes on those too slow.
By Michal 'MJ' JonesYou are [found] in
cherry blossom trees / heron bird flight /rib-
bon of night / space between stairs / rose
By Zefyr LisowskiWas not a monster— (His hands were soft)
Was not an abnormality— Was not just
“being a boy”— Had no reputation—
By Leigh SugarI knew it was something bodies could do, disobey –
a girl a grade above had died that fall
of the cancer I was being tested for in winter,
By Jessica (Tyner) MehtaConductor drives us, the cow-
catcher barreling straight into the teeth
of Memory’s harshest winter.
By Tobias WrayOnce done,
my father pulled
the instrument apart.
By Nathan SpoonYou are living inside the cup of another life. Water
is running slowly. Somewhere a hand is overflowing
with the abundance and celebration denizens dream of.