i am the flower that grows out of the cliffside overhanging the lake on thin soil birthed by lichen that digested rocks that i might bloom in her body with love to all of us in life, spirit, remembrance, and struggle i. for St. Marsha P and every Miss that took hits i...
We were born beneath the water in the darkest depths of the lake We rise, our hooves rumbling spewing lake water, muzzles dripping We were born beneath the water in the darkest depths of the lake We rise, our hooves rumbling spewing lake water, muzzles dripping in the...
every treasure chest breathes heavy, every black pearl understands the uncomfortable whole every treasure chest breathes heavy, every black pearl understands the uncomfortable whole just as every siren knows to turn her sadness into song, develop a taste for...
a system of lines is then discovered by light, filtering through trees, through trees whose branches discover lines along the moss in light a system of lines is then discovered by light, filtering through trees, through trees whose branches discover lines along the...
In the backseat of a mustang you looked so much like a movie. The sleeves of your shirt cut off and gas station glasses. Open beer and the wind forgiving nothing. I was almost myself, watching road signs disappear and leaning from the window, dress billowing. Three...
Where are the words I devoured The English hoard I treasured inside this body soon to be Where are the words I devoured The English hoard I treasured inside this body soon to be ^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^and the mind In my youth I^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^ the synaesthesia of life...
who secretly thrilled to Ursula who shared her envy of that underwater voice and wanted nothing more than to throat it. To swallow. To use it however we liked. We, the ones who tried to belt some mournful song but heard just screechy child warbles, nothing sultry. Who...
Not whole, the way we know them now, but fragmentary hollow skeletals that seal the human or reveal what it once was. Breath stolen by volcanic gas and corpses dressed in ashes. An imprint of dust upon the body, or the body onto dust. Excavators filled the distance...
Our 2015 Poetry Contest Honourable Mention, judged by Jen Currin. snow again. no country for thin women. yes it was white this morning – where did it go? the only whites I see are houses frame or aluminum-sided among the awakening trees. a gulls’ coffee clatch in...
By all the gods I don’t know why the hell I come to these things passed defences farewell parties publications showers house- swarmings Room would like to apologize to Meaghan Rondeau, whose translation of “Sappho, 31” appeared in Room 38.1 without italics as she...