Online Exclusives

12.30.04
Swiss Miss
Lingers now in peace upon the swollen tide,
ruby-throat fallen from sky in the last few hours. [...]
11.16.04
From Draft 59: Flash Back
A half glass carafe,
a choice red ochre chalk,
a felt-blue paper  [...]
10.18.04
From Archicembalo
Ask if this showing will make a better weave. [...]
09.17.04
I know the letters this way
The way I talk is a result of the way I hear her I was told but it took how long to show up in cursive. [...]
08.17.04
Diagramming Here: An Interview
Free verse and the prose poem may have emerged in revolt against the formality inhabiting French language but insofar as New York School poets write imitating the relaxed line that they have read they persuade us of their urbanity and their literariness.  [...]
08.01.04
CLOUD / RIDGE
pale blue white haze in front of the vertical

plane of the ridge in window on left, sunlit

orange flower on green passion-vine covered

fence in right foreground  [...]
07.08.04
Summer Letters
shored up inside still
they speak liturgies over
this valley’s grid [...]
06.01.04
The Skirmish
“… and then I died and went to France.”
Thus, the story of your life wrapped up and pensive. [...]
04.17.04
Two Poems
Play your hand, Madame.
      Black stripe down
your dress, keyhole slit,
      door to a dark room.  [...]
02.26.04
FAQ
I first drew shoes on an animal a long long time ago. [...]
02.17.04
The Library of Seven Readings
Because its material substratum remains transcendental
the freedom of the subject, which the transcendental is designed to rejuvenate,
allows us to inhale and exhale refreshing drafts just as we approach the summit. [...]
01.22.04
Two Poems
It drew in my eyes, a slab, on it a huge white fish
just landed, or beached, a beluga, intact, naked  [...]
01.06.04
From Nets
you               absent in

                              every thing



    the deep vermilion
                  figures
              pattern of

    your shadow [...]

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current issue
Numina: The Enchantment Issue
Fall 2023
Bradford Morrow

Online

March 27, 2024
On my day off, I drove my aging father to his death in the quaint town he had frequented after the navy when he was bouncing between jobs. On the phone, two nights before the fated trip, was the first I had heard him speak of this place. Though I believed him, doubts soon set in, and I wondered whether his claim was a phantom of his condition.
March 20, 2024
Christmas Night lies bitter cold and silent over the capital, and all life seems frozen. Even the wind is still, and the stars flicker like minuscule fires that strive to keep life going. 
March 13, 2024
Ariadne struck the mast

Enraged. She     couldn’t sail, no

One had ever bothered to


Teach her, but the ship wouldn’t

Be still.     She had awoken

To find Thesus dead, his crew


Dead,     and at first she had felt

Relief.