Issue: 2018

A dandelion, disguised as a sunflower. You can do so much better than to focus on a weed like me. … Continue Reading

Ada B. Wells is not her real name, but she talks about Ida B. Wells who refused to give up her seat on the train long before Rosa Parks could even ride the bus without her mother. We had just met, and her furry top hat sat over her hair. She was lament … Continue Reading

It’s winter and There are bees in you. They push their way out of The corners of your mouth When you grin, a driven mass. Bees in your eyes, they crawl Out of your ears like slow honey. Their bristle legs are sticky From the things between your teeth. … Continue Reading

Good Morning small room with no windows, folk punk and three birds squawking at me— I slept on the floor last night I dreamt of running a potluck without contributions and barely any food I quit my job, spent all my money on chard and italian cheese I … Continue Reading

with you: an entrance when you open your eyelids glitter specks of fever dream and its a buzzing day a day to burst and fruit a winged seed in sun hips knife and writhe, soft hair filling fist   … Continue Reading

Once she lived in Arizona and she got an award, so her mother sent her an azalea. It was pink                   and pretty, so out of place in the apartment of nubby beige and ochre chair covers,                   cigarette smoke, monsoon grit. All her … Continue Reading