by Helen Ivory | Nov 4, 2024 | Featured, Poetry
Poet Dead [after Rilke] Laid down, his upraised face is White – offputting – on a plumped pillow. How life takes the He-Who-Knows And His senses and disallows, Absorbs to the year’s disimpetuousness. Saw Him alive did the comparative dunce:...
by Helen Ivory | Nov 3, 2024 | Featured, Poetry
Pieces “The all-consuming passion is rarely found more than a recipe for misery,” you read and told me you would see about that and joked “Can two people be engaged who are already married?” But it seems I was right after all. I remember the Dali...
by Helen Ivory | Nov 2, 2024 | Featured, Poetry
Watching the woodpecker at 5.30 am He appears like a paper bag blown onto the feeder, punching his beak time and again into the peanuts. The minute he sees me he’s off in bouncing flight. Today, it’s early, and I’m sipping tea in the kitchen. He...
by Kate Birch | Nov 1, 2024 | News
Brown girls’ anthem A Golden Shovel after ‘Call Me by Your Name’ by André Aciman We die so many deaths before we turn twenty. We, the schoolyard Kardashians. We sew our stories, rip them out as the schoolbus pulls up at our door. We out cast our vile tongues so...
by Sofía Masondo | Nov 1, 2024 | Word & Image
Here Here, the rain collaged The first mud allegory. The uncertain fields the gravel topped sky. a panacea of places J.I. Kleinberg lives in Bellingham, Washington, USA, and on Instagram @jikleinberg. Chapbooks of her visual poems include How to pronounce the...
