At Echo Mire
Late—or early, depending on how you saw it—under the close stars, through the uncut grass, amid the pulse of crickets and drone of frogs, we led our fathers downhill to drown them. Continue reading At Echo Mire
This Is Why I Plant Perennials
Every time I plant the perennials —
daffodils, tulips, tiger lilies, hollyhocks —
I’m leaving a part of me immortal… Continue reading This Is Why I Plant Perennials
wood-voice, I must pass on
for nothing here knows me
but
the fog along the ridge of pines
Continue reading wood-voice, I must pass on
Transubstantiation
He dropped the orange peel as he walked. “Leave no trace,” said Sharon, last in the line. She stopped to squat, trying to pick up the trash. Her knees wavered as she balanced the weight of her backpack. “It’s organic,” said Vince. He shrugged, like what did it matter. His wife Nevada nodded agreement. “It’s not trash,” said Nevada, “because it’s part of the … Continue reading Transubstantiation
Two Poems
When we were fifteen
• We stole peaches from the bodega
• The juice ran down our chins Continue reading Two Poems
Some Flowers
To rhyme their orange is impossible… Continue reading Some Flowers
My Son Finds a Dead Bird
I realize in this moment,
he will be defined by
what I teach him Continue reading My Son Finds a Dead Bird
A Forensic Reading of Images
Just one week before, her husband had made them a reservation at Les Amis, the best French restaurant in the Hamptons. There was an expensive bottle of burgundy serving as a candle holder on the table. Layers of colored wax melted around the neck marking the passage of time, the countless dinner dates. She pictured a young couple holding hands under the table, the … Continue reading A Forensic Reading of Images
Salmon
The river is just a chain
of voices
breaking Continue reading Salmon
At the Table
Saturdays smelled sharp… Continue reading At the Table
The Type of Bite that Stings
When the beehive fell onto our front porch, I told Cecily not to look at it. She asked why, and I replied because I said so, and then she looked out the door window anyway and said, “It’s a broken home, just like ours.” I don’t know why Cecily thought our home was broken. Our plumbing works, although sometimes the toilet upstairs only flushes … Continue reading The Type of Bite that Stings
Review of House of Women by Sophie Goldstein
The encroaching wilderness threatens a small convent of nuns on an alien planet. Continue reading Review of House of Women by Sophie Goldstein
Review of American War by Omar El Akkad
Young Sarat Chestnut revolts against a post-apocalyptic American civil war. Continue reading Review of American War by Omar El Akkad
Review of Day’s Late Blue by Jennifer Burd
Jennifer Burd’s newest collection explores the many ways we deal with loss. Continue reading Review of Day’s Late Blue by Jennifer Burd