The Industry of Edmonton by Megan Paranich Air snaps out from the porcelain mouthsof sparrows, beaks clip together, shearing offthe extra quiet. How they talk to each otheris a perfect rhythm for shadow-boxing in underwear,aiming for the spot where the sun’s headought...
A Black Woman Gets a Window Seat on Aer Lingus by Teri Ellen Cross Davis Enough Ireland.For all your lusheffusion of color—inside me bloomsa masochistic loneliness.Give me the screwsI know best,the policemanquick to testmy Yes, Siras acid-less.Trigger the...
There’s Nothing Past This by Emily Townsend That one. That bag in the overhead, the ripped corner, the brown strap seemingly torn by a feral dog, hanging off the brink. There’s an edge cubing the zipper, the size of gift card. It glows in the fluorescent lights....
Years by Doug Ramspeck The years are a hive. Or a swarm. They gather in the prisoner’s chest or with the hairs that protrude like tiny dark weeds on the surface of his arms. Or maybe they are his breaths or the sounds of him rolling over in his cot or reaching out to...
Some Things You Can Ask Me by Rita Ciresi After I left the nursing home, I sat in my Lexus in the parking lot. It was hot. It was June. My parents would have been married sixty years today. Dad was long gone. But I’d left Mom slumped in her wheelchair in her...
