A Literary Magazine Sponsored by The University of Maine at Farmington
By Lucia Haase Phantoms of fogwalk into morningthroughout the forest,stretching – yawning… secreted faunain shadows, creepby fern and brackenyet asleep. Cool winds howl,a kind of calling-forest wolveshunting…crawling. Watchers watchingin the … Continue Reading Episode
By Rachel Tanner sunday mornings we wake and you stretch limbs over me protectively,kiss my forehead, breathe my own nameback into my mouth. we’ve been doing thisfor months now and it … Continue Reading sundays
By William Heath The pickers are long gone,just a few men have jobs.Cotton choppers replaced bycrop-dusting planes sprayingweed-killing poison. Greenmachines resembling giganticgrasshoppers, bloated binsfor bellies, gobble cotton,leaving only the ends … Continue Reading The Shack
By Alyssa Pickarts The disgusting algae attached tomy mother’s favorite porch windowmakes me wanna gag. The bioluminescent greenlooks like my father‘s fungi foot. “It’s called Athletes Foot.”Shut up, you hag. … Continue Reading [I Am] Unreliable
By John Zedolik Those blackberries at the bottomof the neighborhood’s hill above the busway where I relished mysecret juicy treat beyond the diesel exhaust must have migratedto the stars like … Continue Reading Heaven Knows
By Mark Bennion Not even a score of years ago,you pulled on my pant legs, beggingme to sing one more off-kilterRodgers and Hart tune before turning offthe lights. “My … Continue Reading Audition
By Martins Deep The night you died, Echo never stopped howling poor dog, barking and barkingrestless as your fingers over the pages of a Bible you never read until you started … Continue Reading in memoriam ii
By Daniela Lilly Mouth wide open, unmoving, unclosed,A hollow cave for brittle promisesLeft for dead.Fragile, as the last tearThat brought peace, unwanted. (And) With her last breath,A cup of tea … Continue Reading A Cup of Tea Went Cold
By Sarah Dickenson Snyder I have always seen timeas a circle, a calendar pulling the last month back to the first.The circles shrink and tighten, how I see babies being … Continue Reading Time & Space
By David Troupes Blue plastic washed among weed,among rope and foamwith the other torn things, arrived through bowels of making and metal,the gizzards and vents of the world-machine. Petrochemicals, trees perhaps— … Continue Reading An Island Off Chatham
By Sarah Dickenson Snyder My first kiss was under a leaf pilemy face flecked with fall—latermy father burned the moundin front of our house on the edgeof Elm Street. All … Continue Reading Kindling
Toti O’Brien Of the tree that shed a gigantic branchflooding it with a shot of lymphsucked up from the roots, causing it to burstexploded by centrifugal pressureI heard the sacrifice … Continue Reading The Cure
By Christopher Palmer Waiting for the bus ITurn to face the freezing rain,Hear the quick-low tapping on my glasses. Gentle but sharp, not moving too quickly.Tendrils of a distant fire … Continue Reading Somewhere, In the Distance
By Mary Christine Delea is its cool detachment. The machine hasnothing to lose or gain no matterwhat is discovered. The MRI, all metaland lights, knows only its own sounds, noises … Continue Reading What the DVT Loves about the MRI
By Bonnie Larson Staiger after Margaret Haberman’s “How to Make Espresso” In the center of the continentmy landlocked coffee machinegurgles and spits mannaand crema in my insulated mug.Not bad actually … Continue Reading A Straight Shot Between Friends
Steven M. Smith’s poems have appeared in The River, Hole in the Head Review, Rattle, Old Red Kimono, Plainsongs, Poetrybay, Ibbetson Street Press, Cabildo Quarterly, Better Than Starbucks, Offcourse, The Writing Disorder, The Worcester Review, and Mudfish. He is the Writing Center director at … Continue Reading Mrs. Hardy