Online Exclusives

02.21.24
Epithalamium and Other Poems
Because in the kitchen, it’s difficult to lie

Because the yearbook photo shows long straight hair parted down the middle, Marcia Brady-
  style

Because in my son’s mind, he has only one dziadek & babcia & that blindspot diminishes me
  more each day [...]
02.14.24
Saved Voicemails, Some Tweets
The earliest, from my brother (June 2007) was twelve seconds long: “Hi, it’s me—aww, fucking-A!—Hi, it’s me, call later, I guess.”

Then the first day of August 2007, twenty seconds: “Hi Amanda, this is Ollie, I just saw the news a bridge fell down in Minneapolis—I hope you weren’t on it. I guess that’s why I’m calling. I’ll try you later. Okay, love you, bye.” I was working at the café when I missed the call. [...]
02.07.24
Five Poems
The road where I lived went in a circle.
Inside the road circle was a circle of grass.
Inside the circle of grass was the matter I looked through
And looked at, waiting for whatever moved in from the edges
And came together in the middle of the circle.
  [...]
01.31.24
Two Poems and Four Sonnets
heirloom hairline sugar
lips what’s up gas lit
you’re holding the match
dirty mattress book rhythms [...]
01.24.24
The Hole
No one could remember when the hole appeared. Some thought it had opened overnight—spontaneously, like a weather event or an idea—while everyone was sleeping. Others claimed the hole had always been there, but small and shallow enough that no one noticed it. Only as it widened and deepened over time had it taken shape in the village consciousness. Whatever the case, since the hole emerged at the center of town, where everyone went and everything happened, it became impossible to ignore.
  [...]
01.17.24
Cloud Diary, Twenty-One Poems
Not in a place considered a place. Farther out. On the road nowhere. Where a place had been. There was a smokestack. Not a place on the map. To get there, keep going. Kept going and missed it. Missed it but kept going. There was a water tower not considered a water tower. In a place once considered a place.
  [...]
01.10.24
Nine Poems
Truth is asphalt—you, too,
should wait for it to cool,
as slabs of it can and do
get personalityish.
  [...]

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Numina: The Enchantment Issue
Fall 2023
Bradford Morrow

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February 21, 2024
Because in the kitchen, it’s difficult to lie

Because the yearbook photo shows long straight hair parted down the middle, Marcia Brady-
  style

Because in my son’s mind, he has only one dziadek & babcia & that blindspot diminishes me
  more each day
February 14, 2024
The earliest, from my brother (June 2007) was twelve seconds long: “Hi, it’s me—aww, fucking-A!—Hi, it’s me, call later, I guess.”

Then the first day of August 2007, twenty seconds: “Hi Amanda, this is Ollie, I just saw the news a bridge fell down in Minneapolis—I hope you weren’t on it. I guess that’s why I’m calling. I’ll try you later. Okay, love you, bye.” I was working at the café when I missed the call.
February 7, 2024
The road where I lived went in a circle.
Inside the road circle was a circle of grass.
Inside the circle of grass was the matter I looked through
And looked at, waiting for whatever moved in from the edges
And came together in the middle of the circle.
 
The 2019 Shirley Jackson Award winner reads from his work
Monday, March 25, 2024
5:00 pm – 6:00 pm EDT/GMT-4
Campus Center, Weis Cinema