by Samiya Bashir
She knew a sly creature who pointed to which branches birthed best.
by Roohi Choudhry
Mosaic mermaids, fuchsia spandex, lime cotton.
"Dullness, for me, is a poetry cardinal sin."
by Ira Sukrungruang
The Southside me came out unexpectedly, like a Chicago gust.
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May 21st, 2015
Understand: nothing you need exists.
May 19th, 2015
In this country, a man could be lost and no one would know enough to grieve, not even his own mother.
May 14th, 2015
Catherine Pierce talks poems about identity, taming her inner critic, and her latest collection, “The Girls of Peculiar.”
May 12th, 2015
Tough guys don’t dance. You had better believe it.
May 7th, 2015
With a doer’s, a maker’s, a lover’s nostalgia, while I stumbled on, hypnotized by the forked flickering in my mind.
May 5th, 2015
Spent bullets sparkle on streets grimy with the thud of winter.
April 30th, 2015
What was that sound? It might have been a dream, or the house settling, or a loon in the swamp beyond the woods.
April 28th, 2015
Just another instance of the world turning itself inside out.
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