Holy

Kierstin Wilkins I rinse my hand under running water and           just                    like                             that, staring at the mirror,                I am made new. It doesn’t matter that this is not a church, or that I am not praying to God. In this moment of appreciation, I am praying to myself […]

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She Took the First Breath in Salt Water

Stephanie Rao if when you slice open an infant’s belly             and water spills in the pints meant for blood, then that baby seeks hospitality and home, not             haven. a place reserved for the dead. the baby’s fingers have pruned and lost their             softnesss, the defining infant trait. she has been afloat yellow […]

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Familiar Coven

Mackenzie Cook I find myself in tellingspeaking from a dead woman’s mouthshe forms “God”I spit it out “gay”this woman is stilllooming over her own bedstaring down at my grandmother who tells her“Mama, you are the most beautiful womanmore beautiful than the sun.”than the silk scarves draped over the bedto pay for last month’s cans of […]

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Un Teléfono Descompuesto

Maria Benavides Como se quiebra mi corazón,como la línea de teléfonoYa no me describes los amanecerescon los que despertabas,los susurros que echaban a volar tu imaginación cuando salías de paseo el miércoles por la tarde,las noticias que te comparten tus vecinas, las golondrinas. ¿Dime, qué fue lo que sucedió? Nuestros veranos difusos y tardados se […]

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You Could Be a Winner!

Samantha Ortiz Poetry Contest Honorable Mention It was the way he slouched in the doorway when he tried to smile and say hello,I asked him what he wanted.I wanted to know quick.I needed to know now.He paused.The ring.What ring? I asked. There is no ring.You know about the ring.He tore apart my roomripping every poster […]

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Doc, What's Wrong?

Kierstin Wilkins Poetry Contest Honorable Mention Doc, What’s Wrong?Doc, my own dreams keep attacking me.I wake up, stung, at least once a week. What’s causing my pain? It seems an unhealed exit wound is to blame.Do you know what that could be about? An itch to pick the scab of her just won’t go away.I […]

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For the Roaches

Charles “Chuck” Taylor These little terrorists, the brown oblong kind, not so smart; the blacker, smaller, rounder ones, dodging whatever you pick up to smash them, BLAM, BLAM, BLAM, on the kitchen countertop, inside the bread box, around the bathroom sink and tub, BLAM, BLAM, BLAM, hiding on the underside of drawers, you can tell […]

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