Springerle

by Sara Backer

During the war, my grandmother mailed springerle
to American soldiers in Germany. They could survive
the trip, their cookie lifespan equal to three hundred human years.
Two days to beat, to chill, to roll, to stamp, to bake their sugar,
flour, and eggs. She used a wooden mold of six pictures
carved by my great-grandfather in Dresden.

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The Confusion of Trauma and Self

by Kathleen Janeschek

When I stop to touch another’s skin,
my fingers curve around their limbs and
push down into silky fat woven into muscle
into meat upon bone into the texture of vessels
charting course between the ridges Continue reading

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Can’t Stop a Burning Witch

by Erin Carlyle

We set a girl to burn,
and in the ruin of her body we

stamp our feet—cake the mud
and ash. We set her to burn,

and we’ve been taught to hold
the tongue of ourselves, to kill Continue reading

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Charlottesville

by Sean Lause

Fever hangs in the willows.
The man with the cocksure eye
awaits you down this road.

Trees spell their leaves in syllables of fear.
A black ghost and a white ghost
dance a mystery through your past. Continue reading

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Abecedarian: The Final Cut

by Debbie Hall

You don’t know what you’ve got ’til it’s gone
–Joni Mitchell

Aloha, Po’ouli, you shy little black-faced
bird, last one down from Haleakala’s slopes,
captive and tended by the hopeful, your one good eye Continue reading

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