CHELA CUNNINGHAM
i’ve been to the movies six billion times and kept every ticket. i’ve raged and written. lined up all my bodies and carefully selected who i wanted to be that night….Continue Reading Starchild 11:25
Category: Poetry
New Eyes

BEA AGBI
the hospital’s radiology and imaging floor / I took a look at my bones
and the x-ray confirmed what I already knew – / that these branches are palms,
this skin bark, no difference between breath / and chlorophyll save the distinctions / of time. When I’m no longer standing / Still waiting for a word from the old gods / When I’ve given up on keeping my lips clenched…Continue Reading New Eyes
Self-Portrait Axed & Open

GABBY AVENA
A child is a fruit, I am told. Time carves / my center: two bodies twine inside / like aphids around bark. Harvested / fruit, your flesh emerges peach-soft & fuzzy, / sweetness suckling upon release. I shudder: / the taste is fear, or relief. A child is a fruit: from which / a new world is born. A child is a fruit: dropped & bruised / & poisoned….Continue Reading Self-Portrait Axed & Open
Forever Green
RIS PAULINO
I scale the cracked shingles, the roof warm beneath my palms, / each grip a reminder that not all heights can be measured in feet. / The sun slips sideways, brushing against the window panes, / and I stand there, taller than the house that never grew with me. / I look off toward the sunset, / and see a treeline—…Continue Reading Forever Green
Stepping
LILA SCHLISSEL
And everybody’s showing a rib-cage to the / rib-watchers, head thrown back/throat exposed so we can see the / ridges do you see me we are asking / don’t you see us…Continue Reading Stepping
the smell of the ocean hit me first.

KYLA BISCOCHO
we were on your balcony, / the waves nearly drowning out our words / and I pulled my sweater tight, dampened by the mist, / as you pointed at the hulking metal structures / which you told me were oil rigs / that lit up the sea for miles / reminding you of Christmas trees / floating at the edge of the horizon….Continue Reading the smell of the ocean hit me first.
where we learn to love and hate and cry

SARAH DOWN
You have tainted every sacred space / You– who held me holy in my love and rage / Kissed my balm-blistered palms / And wiped milk from my lips…Continue Reading where we learn to love and hate and cry
who gets away with living forever?
SAM HUANG
imagine this: a murder mystery where everybody knows
who the killer is but me, doomed from the start. everybody has
already identified the guilty party, throwing this party–is this fun
for you?…Continue Reading who gets away with living forever?
Words Unsaid
EMILY WYKOFF
You are full of empty promises / Lies hidden in kind equivocations / I’m tired of running in circles, chasing my tail / Trying to chase you …Continue Reading Words Unsaid
DRAG SELF-PORTRAIT ACROSS JUPITER & ALL THAT COMES BACK IS IN NYX EYELINER & THE FEAR OF DYING NOT EVEN GORGEOUS
AIDAN COOPER
In all my experience the boy /
has what it takes to break / away, unfurl the tootsie roll / lollipopped in the cherry
…Continue Reading DRAG SELF-PORTRAIT ACROSS JUPITER & ALL THAT COMES BACK IS IN NYX EYELINER & THE FEAR OF DYING NOT EVEN GORGEOUS
A Collection of Life
GRACE ESCOE
I have never understood the want to / Live forever / Be ever young / To never age / Evergreen…Continue Reading A Collection of Life
Green Apple Walls
HADLEY HUNT
the painted lavender walls watched me since birth.
the floral printed sheets bathed me since my chubby toes
first touched the ground. the smells of all things fresh and innocent,
doors always open,
windows tipped upwards,
sweet experiments concocted in the kitchen down the hall….Continue Reading Green Apple Walls
From the Porch
GEORGE HENRY
From Aunt Zell’s porch, I see myself etched into clumps of baked coral that have clambered out of the sea & up this hill
where they pretend to be rocks but only fool themselves…Continue Reading From the Porch
Haircut
SARAH GOLDSCHMIDT-HOPKINSON
You look different. This time your hair is [red / pink / blonde] and I love it. You are [as beautiful as the last time I saw you / as beautiful as the last time I saw you / as beautiful as the last time I saw you].
…Continue Reading Haircut
I need you

ZOE ALARCON
you’re born into the ripe age of freedom
jaded children rowdy roar, hungry stuffed on chicken patties
girls can be whatever they want to be!
…Continue Reading I need you
Philadelphia/Alasehir
SELMA ACAR
Girls are strung along the meandering banks of the Delaware and Gediz rivers. / Conceived as a foolish gudgeon bait fish, removed from the womb with their fists clenched. / Have you ever held your death warm in your palms?…Continue Reading Philadelphia/Alasehir
I Still Can’t Swim

AMAYA RANATUNGE
“I don’t know how to swim.” / “I’ll teach you.” // Water weaving through my hair, / soft and steady, / Blurring the edges of the world. / Lilies brushing my skin / faint and silk, / singing melodies of the dawn. / Moss coiling ‘round my fingers, / cool and warm, / pulsing quiet beneath the touch….Continue Reading I Still Can’t Swim
Returning to the Christmas House
CLARA CHIU
The worn trail of your back and forth, lacing floorboards with footsteps, with a premonition that rattles the interior. Shiver and call it awe, please and thank you. At the hearth, the chairs arranged to watch evenings arrive; a domestic tableau we enter with practiced distraction. Here is the firewood, halved into silence….Continue Reading Returning to the Christmas House
Love Poem With a Punchline

KATE BESTALL
Truth is, I never get drunk but I make an excellent party girl. You, / who always misunderstood both me & the alcohol, you’ll swallow / the moon & startle when it burns….Continue Reading Love Poem With a Punchline
Misty Stone, Sweet Petrichor
KATELYN PARROTT
I thought I caught it last night—felt the verdant warmth against my palms / but in the morning, fresh petrichor misted stone earth / as fat blue raindrops wept on powdery soil / dry with yearning, quiet with tired…Continue Reading Misty Stone, Sweet Petrichor
고향 (gohyang)

HANNAH KWON
From above the bridge, you see half-frozen streams and hear the rush of water pulsating beneath layers of ice. And as if in immediate response, your body hums alive, blood rushing to your numb fingertips, the static-like buzz a reminder of how fragile the flesh you blanket over the thing that lurks inside of you actually is. …Continue Reading 고향 (gohyang)
&
MEL ARTHUR
it begins but doesn’t end with the earth, / only a memory you don’t keep / anymore,
because the first snow was / clouding your mind, my camera, the two / green chairs that surrounded us // even / my gloves that were on your hands / because I was cold but you claimed / your fingertips were colder…Continue Reading &
Mango

BEA AGBI
I didn’t want the mango. I didn’t / want it I was full Just let me have a bit / but my mother said no bites, / peeling and putting it / into my hands, yellowredgreen soft / and malleable in its ripeness, eat / the whole thing. …Continue Reading Mango
family dinner: still life in silence and salt
HANNAH KWON
and this salt would spread quickly, like grief / always does, trickling into red pepper paste / and flakes of anchovy skin, salt desecrating / the soup we’d double-dip our spoons into, / so when metal met our lips, …Continue Reading family dinner: still life in silence and salt
In Lieu of Language
MADI SUH
in lieu of language, / i stuff my mouth. / i do not know how to say the words for all the banchan. / i only know how to eat, / how to be hungry, how to ask for more….Continue Reading In Lieu of Language
Growing Pains
By FEDORA LIU
So sugary sweet / It rotted my teeth // Back then there were boundless pools of sap here / I thought I would never go hungry // I thought I would live forever….Continue Reading Growing Pains
Rose Colored Boxes
RUTH ZURAW
Our morning-stretched shadows / graze, overlap on the pavement— / heat curling around calves / in gentle waves. …Continue Reading Rose Colored Boxes
Bringing

LILA SCHLISSEL
She will bring me gifts / teeth and black licorice lips cradling some / bird / with hollow bones / and lay / it / in my lap / unscathed, if confused / and / covered in a little spit…Continue Reading Bringing
One More Bite
OLIVIA KELLER
Every day is the same. / Wake up, go to class, do work, go to bed. / Like clockwork – tirelessly stuck in a loop going tick by tock. / Boredom sets in and my thoughts wonder….Continue Reading One More Bite
Forticus, the Blanket Fort

GABBY AVENA
A hold unto our- / selves, hidden under blankets / that color the air // red is the evening cupped in / eggnog and projector light…Continue Reading Forticus, the Blanket Fort