By Maureen Alsop

They were those who carried light through the house — ghost-less aftereffects. I stayed silent on the telephone, and heard their voices lean against a drugstore wall(somewhere west, perhaps from Eau Claire).

By Noah Falck

The dark feels its way through the crowd, shows up after the hit & run on Main Street. Those out of breath/out of work build a river outside our window. We watch it move.

By Arisa White

We are stupid, meaning amazed. We are assholes, meaning we are free

to let go, away. We are jerks, meaning this movement isn’t allowed.

Body languages, coincidences are neither heads nor tails.

By Christopher Hennessy

Each day was an archipelago

of awkward hours, nothing ours,

a glass boat of only oars.

The waters in between, slow

By Arisa White

Here the neighbor screams for Frankie

to get the TV out of her mind.

Here is your fear and anxiety in everything you offer.

By Arisa White

I’m waiting for you like waiting

for all the bottles to simultaneously

burst on the bottle tree. Together like

By Gillian Conoley

Where the page was, do we walk

into the blown

door frame

By Lisa Williams

The wind is not your companion.

Nor is it whispering anything to you.

Nor is it not whispering.

By Lisa Williams

I can grow in shadow as in light.

I can grow in shadow, I promise you.

As in light. Only the dark minds those little
fingers. Only

By Steve Davenport

Night tongues

the low slur

like an oar

By Steve Davenport

At the end of the world,
a Tuesday, I crouched
with a blue notebook
in a concrete bunker
and drank schnapps
until my liver candied

By Peter Kline

Ich allein
lebe und leide und lärme.
I alone
live and suffer and howl.

By Peter Kline

There’s something not-quite-right about you, he said.
There’s something not-quite-right about the way
you stand beside me, close enough to touch me.