Taboret
By Essay Issue 105
When I hear my parents’ voices lilt with Midwestern shame, our pernicious lineage, I want to set the bench on fire or bury an axe head into it.
Read MoreSome Trees, Too
By Poetry Issue 105
days like my lost eyelashes,
just dry leaves curled there and here,
The Eighth Sacrament
By Poetry Issue 105
Now you are a monotonousness of grace-
light under my steps, the unseen seen.
Icons of Soul
By Photo Essay Issue 105
I found an unexpected resonance in D’Angelo’s low-fi, melancholy mood, articulated in the album Voodoo, which has mystified me for years.
Read MoreDiagramming the Live Oak
By Poetry Issue 105
Because we die, we all die, and the oak lives,
those imagined rings like so many glasses
Even from the Shore, Even upon Plains
By Poetry Issue 105
We step over the barbed wire into the pasture,
overtaken by another giddiness.
Winter Empties Her Pockets
By Poetry Issue 105
We will be the young tufts of spring.
My shadow will lay itself down over yours, reader.
We will not cut ourselves open any longer.
Three Essays
By Essay Issue 105
How does this resound in my heart, Lord? Do you hear it? It’s the sound of my shovel hitting those aluminum markers.
Read MoreNightshade
By Poetry Issue 105
The orchard blooms,
and strangers tend, in wooded plots (or tombs),
blue nightshade, to the bitter end of gene.
Gabriel
By Fiction Issue 105
I remember when those hands were furnaces burning in the hearts of celestial bodies. I watched the very dust fall to earth and become you.
Read More