by Corinne Wohlford Mason
Listen.
When you begin to
hear the drums pound out a rhythm
you’ve reached the city’s edge. Continue reading
by Oksana Maksymchuk
Nowhere safe to go
I keep myself hidden in
an anonymous uniform Continue reading
Filed under Poetry
by Sophia Falber
-after a mural of Celia Cruz by Alejandra Seda, 2021
Her name in all its glory:
Úrsula Hilaria Celia de la Caridad Cruz Alfonso.
Taking space:
on the page,
on the wall,
on the stage. Continue reading
Filed under Poetry
by Danielle Verwers
I.
Baldwin sold the set he built
there on the kitchen table
to the Navy. Continue reading
by Candice Kelsey
My head is the lawn of a country manor overrun by horses released on a fox hunt. I press a thumb to my occipital muscle with the rhythm of a gallop. Tally ho! the corpuscles scream as I manipulate the pressure point. I notice the screen above the mantle flashing Are you still watching? I select Yes, of course. Although this sixth episode of season one of Murder, She Wrote is evidence I am not watching at all. Lynne Redgrave and Angela Lansbury fill the silence three days after Christmas while my family travels. My anxiety forbids me to leave the house. Continue reading
Filed under Nonfiction