The Blog

Sub-zero

Catherine Pond

Snow flanks the street, shoveled in piles higher than my head. It was the winter

of lost gloves and ear infections, of iced-over porch parties, of long-johns.

 

I lived with four girls. In the photo, my nails are Pepto pink, and the girls gather

around me, faces blurry in the frame. I remember the smell of their perfume—

 

Earth usually has more than one moon, study suggests

Talin Tahajian

When the last stellar-studded gown swept across the whole

bleeding world, I cried. The pearly night ate me up. Marveling,

you ask, What is it like, living in the larval object? I used to know­—

the same goes for our sloshing planet. Now, I forget most things.

The darkness is round and white. It has become glorious and full.

Apocalypse / Utopia VI

Katie Willingham

The actor rehearses alone, before the rehearsal,

to get the lines right. If I could remember

 

everything, I doubt it would appear like

elegant scaffolding, a face on top, and limbs, how

 

they gesture now, in June, towards June things:

a dress covered in boats, leaves flashing their undersides

 

All the Better

Marlin M. Jenkins

Boy / what big lies you have /

            What big lashes /

 

What large heaps to hide

            behind / cardboard and colored glass /

 

Boy / what grubby hands you have /

            What big histories / Boy lying

 

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