by Karen Kovacik
after Elizabeth Acevedo
Although I am his wife, I’m no longer his lover.
I am not the washcloth that fondles
his penis and balls, nor the spoon
of sorbet on his tongue. I am not oxygen
tubing that swishes behind him like a skirt,
rival imagined from literal air, Continue reading
Filed under Poetry
by Bryce Berkowitz
after Kim Addonizio
She hangs around, bestowing new doubt to your friends
or else she disappears over the long weekend.
She shows up again mid-week, when you’re finally sober,
like someone passing through town who just invited you to dinner.
She allows you to search, then provides variant meanings.
When you lie in bed Continue reading
Filed under Poetry
by Zachary Payne
My wife is from Spain. When we met, we spoke to each other in Spanish, still today it is what we use to communicate. Is love bigger than languages? All I know is that it is impossible to express my affection for her in anything other than Spanish. Continue reading
by David P. Miller
It took fewer days for him
to carry me home, lay me in the crib
than for me to carry him home,
place him on a bedroom closet shelf
among the bare clothes hangers. Continue reading
Filed under Poetry
by Kay Cosgrove & Lauren Hilger
Now, when I read this, a cloud covers
a marble lobby deep in sick July,
changing my face with grief.
I have been here before,
at least every summer since, hot air,
a hug behind a locked hotel room door— Continue reading
Filed under Poetry
