Edited by Bradford Morrow
June 11, 2019
“I wanted ours to be a perfect
union,” he tells us at the table in the back, candle out.
“I wanted every desire to be balanced, exactly,
by generosity. And stasis to be a form
of flight. But I was yammering
in my sleep.
After Rosmarie Waldrop
June 4, 2019
Sometimes I see a transparent profile, shadow-self with its thready tendrils turning to face the absence of a face framed by the window opposite. Selflessness is a complicated structure in that it doesn’t exist. The speaker ever-hovers just outside the door, listening. She went whichaway, grinding her teeth to shadow.
May 28, 2019
I have in common with old window glass
a pleasant warping
of whatever forces through
In this sickly light the defanged
dogs slurp their sludges. I intone as taught
“Here no mystery is”
Monday, October 28, 2019
2:30 pm – 3:30 pm