The Blog

For the Post-Anthropocene

K.A. Hayes

—at Roque Bluffs state park
stone stone & skipping barefoot tender
on stone sand & heat / sharpness or roundness guiding
to go on wanderlooking
but not looking for
no not to find but what’s now found & now, seeing
I see
& if I bend to touch a rock to palm
a rock the wind wobbletosses a force

Chance Finds

Forester McClatchey

It begins with a lump of peat dredged from the bottom of the North Sea. The fishermen look
at it tolerantly. Peat, driftwood, and gulper sharks are not uncommon to catch. Today the men
are bored so they crack open the lump of peat, and a harpoon falls out. It is made of red deer
antler and gleams like burnished ebony.

The fishermen now understand that they are pulling food from a tomb.

Buying American

S.M. Ellis

Don’t forget the foreman’s Honda.
They snowplowed the doors

& let him freeze. Tuxedo Justice,
mom said. Let him

die by the swoop of the wrecking ball
when this place shuts down. Let him

miss the earthquake in Bangladesh
on morning news, the cartoons,

& after graveshifts, miss out
on hashbrowns & eggs

What I’m Left With

Christopher Citro

Second thing I did this morning
was run naked into the backyard
to chase a squirrel from the feeder.
I know none of this matters. Trick is
work the knots out, use your elbows
when your hands get tired. Mom
would walk on dad’s back. I’d
walk on both of them, grasping
the rocking chair for support,


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