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...
The pages you have yet to write are flagged and fluorescent, post-it pennants waving for another town’s fiesta. The pages you have yet to write are flagged and fluorescent, post-it pennants waving for another town’s fiesta. Massage the verbiage, the hiring manager...
they might have noticed the bear whose movement down the hallway resembled a private waltz they might have noticed the bear whose movement down the hallway resembled a private waltz or hard-won swagger that comes from knowing trails, from soft leaf language from the...
Palm trees flash past barred windows, and words waft over the train’s noisy pulse. Palm trees flash past barred windows, and words waft over the train’s noisy pulse. Something is different—conjugations of verbs, endings of nouns—but I still understand these pieces of...
uluka my Sanskrit owl vahana, vehicle of Laksmi sharing the name with a muni, sage uluka my Sanskrit owl vahana, vehicle of Laksmi sharing the name with a muni, sage that term from silence itself uluka a kind of grass sound in grass perhaps uluka the quiver i feel...
The honourable mention of our 2014 poetry contest, judged by Sonnet L’Abbé. Wet light hints at the tin roofs of Dawson City squats, the barn-like red wood exterior of the Downtown Hotel. The sky says dawn but my watch says 3. I am coming home from the The Midnight Sun...
Alia and Natty smoke real cigarettes. They light up, breathe in smoke oh-so smooth and breathe out like old-fashioned pros. i. Alia and Natty smoke real cigarettes. They light up, breathe in smoke oh-so smooth and breathe out like old-fashioned pros. I wanna try....