A Literary Magazine Sponsored by The University of Maine at Farmington
By Amanda Strand My father wrote a novel once367 PagesDuring basic trainingAt Camp Rucker, AlabamaLate at night when the air cooled to just about breathableStripped to his T-shirt and shortsTwo … Continue Reading My Father Wrote A Novel
By CM Pickard The Father I Loved wrapped in blankets, shrouded in dusk’s weaning light swallowed in sorrow’s hold; like a lighthouse’s beam shrouded in fog where haunting memories of … Continue Reading “The Father I Loved”, “Canopy of Protection”, “Aggression”, and “Melbourne Cup”
By Christopher Woods Christopher Woods is a writer and photographer who lives in Texas. His monologue show,Twelve from Texas, was performed in NYC by Equity Library Theatre. His poetry collection,Maybe … Continue Reading River
By Daniel Luévano DAY ZERO OF ONE A cloud foams & stalls on its way to Kansas. In the days of meaning we saw Well past our skulls— Last light … Continue Reading “DAY ZERO OF ONE”, “THE GHOST AT THE SÉANCE”, and “YOU ARE THE CONSTELLATION”
By CS Crowe Signed by— The bookseller found the box abandoned on the steps. Someone, a sister, an aunt, or a cousin, They gathered up everything in his desk drawers. … Continue Reading “Signed by—”, “Ekphrastic on a Bus Stop Bench”, and “Love Poem To Styrofoam”
By Chris Dungey Well, of course you’d want to place heated objects— stones, angle-irons fresh off the coals, or hot water bottles beneath the sheets, if you’re going to leave … Continue Reading Closed Windows
By John Nizalowski Pecos Pueblo Rattlesnake There it lay— wary, yet quiescent. People gathered round to view the splendid reptile. One tourist in shorts and a Cape May t-shirt stepped … Continue Reading “Pecos Pueblo Rattlesnake”, “Cemetery Soul”, “The Aged Gods”, “Eternity”, and “Saturday Afternoon”
By Marc Swan Muzzle Velocity Some would say chipping away but leveling with a blow torch is closer to the truth Just over a month and the world we once … Continue Reading “Muzzle Velocity”, “In the year before the last year” and “Any street”
By John Grey Where I’ve Been I was in a diner and morning clientele were a cross-section of inner city lowlifes. The waitress’s name was Sally and she spilled coffee … Continue Reading “Where I’ve Been”, “The Coal Miner” and “Prism”
By River Potter A woman by the name of Elizabeth Wurtzel once said, “A human being can survive almost anything as long as she sees the end in sight But … Continue Reading Depression, a Poem
By Erick Wilund SOBRIETY I got my glasses fixed this morning The easiest wound to bandage after another fractured night Can I ask you, have I had enough? Is it … Continue Reading SOBRIETY
By Erick Wilund He stands on a frozen pond Before a great block of ice A perfect cube, twice his height The block is cold Dark and dense, a container … Continue Reading Untitled, January 5, 2025
By Erick Wilund Untitled, Thanksgiving. The crows all knew the food would come The fowl and figs and tarts and rum A taste or more Was what they craved Thus … Continue Reading Untitled, Thanksgiving
By Erick Wilund I slam him up against the mirror and push him through with me Rational thought, corporeal as a spider’s web, falls away My smile no … Continue Reading Codependence: A Bedtime Story
By Katie Lipoma Childhood at 94 Elm St. It never rains on summer Saturdaysin Massachusetts where the driveway doesn’tcease to end and pitted brick grazesgolden sky.It’s morning and the clothesline … Continue Reading “Childhood at 94 Elm St.” and “Ballet”
By Temidayo Okun while the speakers played Finneas’s “i don’t miss you at all”, i was chewing a piece of stale bread, softened by sweet tea & not … Continue Reading “while the speakers played Finneas’s ‘i don’t miss you at all’, i was”, “somewhere, somewhere.”, “close your eyes and falls asleep”, and “a poem in which prayers feel like lies”