Jeffrey Little – Speak, Memory
Speak, Memory (Vladimir Nabokov) Find a carpet, find the cave, core a rock out with a spoon of broken fire and cut yourself a new tongue to talk with. Wait inside the rock. Speak, memory. I was fifteen, and a rogue, fifty, a meter maid, nine and I was new here, passing out snow globes […]
Liyah Kinsler – Cardamom
Cardamom I was breathless, born from silk and half-dim prayer. Look over. Sun smears gold across the hollow of my chest, the slats of your side. You say Haitian vetiver stains linen like drawn blood and August warmth. It levels the ground when I sink towards the blackwood flat. Remember those mornings, bluet, there is […]
Abby E. Murray – My Daughter Explains the New World
My Daughter Explains the New World It cannot be found in the dreams of men, she says, holding her hands up as if to say that experiment has ended. If men want to exist in the new world, she adds, directions must be translated for them. Like code? I ask. Like a gift, she says. […]
Zachariah Claypole White – The Angel Reflects on the Afterlife
The Angel Reflects on the Afterlife I. The lines are long; the border often closed. The dead queue with proof of person- hood: a boatman’s coin or metro card. They sketch flags in the dirt. Though if you were to ask [why would you?] the dead would respond: there are no nations here, only widowers […]
Mary Gilliland – Expect the Ants
Expect the Ants On the small plate, before the meal ends, a pinch from each dish for the restless ghosts, for their giant bellies, their pin-thin throats. Then it’s my turn to set the plate outdoors. The ants that love my patch of blackberries come with pedicels thin as preta necks linking chest and gut. […]
