When we heard the news Russia had invaded Ukraine My wife ate the radio. She Ate the television, her iPad and iPhone In short order. She did not bloat, however Or become irregular But, in fact More streamlined, Glass-hard, stiff-furred Lynx-like in the transition. …...
I nose the blue kayak loonward and she beaks away. Dive Rise Dive I’m grateful for loons, open-throated tremolo. For pearled droplets sliding off paddle, sun overhead nudging midnight. Every delicate bubble. For full poem, check out our summer issue coming out in July...
My mother has begun to talk about her father, who died when she was 13 My father’s family was so poor they didn’t eat lunch Secrets draped in sheets, sealed in the remotest rooms of a museum In the afternoon, his mother told him to stand in the yard and clean his...
Mom’s cornmeal porridge was just the way I liked it, but even that couldn’t fill the pit in my stomach. Ginga held onto me so tight the morning before the trip, I wondered if she thought she’d never see me again. Mom was strangely talkative, not that she’s so quiet,...
Rain for days. Weeks. One atmospheric river after another. Inside a basement apartment, and out of the unrelenting rain, houseplants were light starved. Thirsty. A twenty-year-old spider plant had shriveled and resembled a parched wig. A woman bowed over it, pinched...
