The World Where It Is
By Beth SpencerIn the atrium of the principal church
in a certain Irish city
it is said a girl can find beneath a bench
among the tea roses the name of an abortionist.
Search Results
Migration Patterns
By Sara BrickmanOwosso, Michigan is cinder blocks
stacked on top of potato cellars and steamrolled
grey. There’s a lot of corn,
Hilt’s Law
By Jacob RakovanThe bones cast in the field like seed corn grow nothing,
grow briars in the boarded gas stations
brown stalks ready for the fire.
‘N’em
By Jericho BrownThey said to say goodnight
And not goodbye, unplugged
The TV when it rained. They hid
Red-Tailed Hawk
By Patricia MonaghanJust past dawn in early fall,
a sparrow screamed at me
as I walked into the woods.
Let Daylight Come (Little Rock, circa 2008)
By Antoinette BrimLet the moon untangle itself
from the clothesline, as coming daylight
diminishes its lamp to memory.
Autumn, New York, 1999
By Patricia Spears JonesAnd I am full of worry I wrote to a friend
Worry, she replied about what—love, money, health?
All of them, I wrote back. It’s autumn, the air is clear
29 Men
By Heather DavisThe lights in your home channel 29 men, their
soot stained clothes, last breaths, crystalline sweat
let loose on black rock
Antebellum
By Gregory PardloUnfinished, the road turns off the fill
from the gulf coast, tracing the bay, to follow
the inland waterway.