The Ballad of the Last of the Still Standing Things by Tyrel Kessinger The place where I am from is rife with old barns, their only purpose now is serving for a good metaphor, like how easy it is for time to eat a thing. Many have fallen, not unlike how our own bodies fall, […]
Poetry: The Old Green One
The Old Green One by Holly Day I will make you a music box from a porn star fill her insides with gears and whistles, a key that comes out of her navel for turning in the hot summer sun or under the stars at night. When our daughter is older, I will […]
Poetry: I Keep Dreaming About My Elementary School Gym Teacher
I Keep Dreaming About My Elementary School Gym Teacher by Alex Ewing She wore short shorts Really short I remember her legs Tanned and toned In gym class, I remember The games we used to play Dodge Ball, Parachute, Scoop Ball She keeps appearing in my dreams She is holding the dodge ball Searching […]
Poetry: Ten Feet Off Trail, A Mile In
Ten Feet Off Trail, A Mile In by Zebulon Huset Further in the forest, we would find a ring of skeletons wedged against young trees that grew into stable trunks and splayed the bones like Inquisitors—a reference I was far too young to know—but the image that sticks, after much work, is the bicycle ten […]