My Lottery Tickets Are All Duds by Kristene Kaye Brown but I buy them anyway. Little scratchersfull of confetti and hope, numbers wrapping around my lucklike the lights of a police cruiser wrapping around a man with nothingto lose. Once, I mistakenly bought two...
The Way I Can’t Breathe When I Think of You by Yvonne Amey There’s a cold, northern dry I can’t feel this far south.Morrissey is singing about a double bus death.I can’t remember if you were dead then but I thinkyou weren’t which makes it...
Brevity by John Sibley Williams Some bodies, only alive for a day, & in that a light to envy, though none of us would give up this long wet world for a matchstick, flint- struck, sulfur-scented, burning & in that burning a reason to cherish what we’ll lose...
searched by Ellen Adams Ellen Adams is a Lambda Literary Fellow and Ploughshares Emerging Writer, with work in Black Warrior Review, Kenyon Review Online, Crazyhorse, and elsewhere. A graduate of Brooklyn College’s MFA program and grantee of Elizabeth George...
The Industry of Edmonton by Megan Paranich Air snaps out from the porcelain mouthsof sparrows, beaks clip together, shearing offthe extra quiet. How they talk to each otheris a perfect rhythm for shadow-boxing in underwear,aiming for the spot where the sun’s headought...
A Black Woman Gets a Window Seat on Aer Lingus by Teri Ellen Cross Davis Enough Ireland.For all your lusheffusion of color—inside me bloomsa masochistic loneliness.Give me the screwsI know best,the policemanquick to testmy Yes, Siras acid-less.Trigger the...
