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Sura: Providence, Rhode Island

Micaela Cameron

The only Korean word I know is oma,/meaning mother. I sit across from her in the low light of the Korean restaurant/downtown. We hold rice paper menus/up to the candle's glow...

Poetry, Fiction, & Nonfiction   

The World Turned

Alex Lemon

Slower & slower & then, for one/ Whole month, it spun so fast/ It was impossible to be jealous/ Or afraid or lost. Pants flew/ Off of strangers. Lapdogs floated/ Away, zigzagging across/ The sky like balloons.

Two Poems

Michael Wasson

'éetu: so be it, he says— & I ignite a flame striking a wooden match along the torso of my god: a face mirroring a boy afraid of only him- self: a shadow spills behind us

From the Archives


Allegra Hyde

You’ll say it was because your parents didn’t understand you—that’s why you left—but really it’s because they understood you too well…

Way of the Gun

Tana Wojczuk

In silence, the women gather. Girls draw together, jostling to get in front of the camera, but once they are there they don’t know how to behave. One chews her hair, the other gesticulates, losing her cool out the ends of her fingers, she fans them like a child searching blind-mole for a lost toy. A woman’s face has collapsed. A mother searching for a lost child. As she speaks of him she strokes her hand against her own cheek.

Two Poems: King of Pop and Homeopathic

Christopher Salerno

Got to be starting              some thing. My father used to                                  catch and                                           modify minor birds with butcher twine.               Revise each one to be more beautiful.

Two Transactions

Carmen Petaccio

He stared down the neck of the guitar like a rifle sight. The shelves in the glass case between us were lined with switchblades, laptops, engagement rings and arrowheads. A small fan on the counter blew only on the clerk. BEWARE: GUARD FERRETS, said a sign taped to the side of the register.

From the Blog

Dissimilar Multitudes

Co-Written with Karla Kelsey Grubby violet dusk.  Everywhere, the tongue-tang of rust…. In a recent collection, Night Vision, Claire Wahmanholm presents…

Re: Verse: On Anonymity and the Future of Collaborative Poetry

Co-Written with Chris Campanioni   Long before the Internet was re-routed from military servers and mainstreamed, Foucault understood the efficacy of…