Observing a man’s hair plugs   either my new low / or perhaps a new peace /   a petal laid on a pond’s surface / i stare at follicles /  ...

Burr Dream On the night of my dead brother’s birthday, I dream his body has grown feet from his belly. A ring of them, some protruding...

Riskless nights’ suburban memory: a Stop through the plosive, my heart in soil, always punished for one reason or another: because a...

for Tom Mallouk We paused where the river waited behind a boulder, trout sipping caddis flies from the swift current, tree swallows...

any good actor will tell you  it’s not them up there but a kind  of wind  that throws wide the door they have spent their whole lives to...

Vladimir came to America from Russia in 1998.             “All of my buddies, they gambles.”             And tonight, he is my Lyft...

An anorexic walks into Chili’s. She opens the menu and dies from shock.   An anorexic walks into Chili’s. She doesn’t open the menu,...

I was the queen of water, even if no one knew. Ten years old, teeming with secrets I was called innocent and little and cute. I was...

Easy Victims to the Charitable Deception of Nostalgia By Emily Schulten White Pine Press 2024 The striking cover of this poetry...

Wheel By Hayden Saunier Terrapin Books 2024 Here’s an honest answer to why it’s taken me so long to write this review: this book of poems...

Settling into a wingback lounge chair at Memorial Sloan Kettering Cancer Center, I allow myself to rest in the sweeping view overlooking...

Matter is the problem of the house, which is the problem with me. Matter and the problem of the house can be neither created nor...

after Brian Doyle   Consider the word takhi for a moment. Written, the word might remind you of a Taki, the preservative-loaded,...

For a long time she’d been grappling with the question of why she bothered to write. She knew it wasn’t to connect with potential readers...

The other night was a good one in the east when the rain stopped and I plant liberties  so I can pull them up like turnips again and...

In Babel Years   many hands  not the lightest of work  but side-by-side  group project  all in this together  pulley and lever  garden...

How to Murder a Mule Beat a tree with whatever you can find—an old bat, a torque wrench, your fists—until you match  the rhythm of her...

FOR WANDA A packet of hair rollers thrown from the window of a moving car. A pretty yellow top; a headband of plastic flowers. The...

She carries wet berries in reusable bags.  Along our block the trees burst  with confessions. Dusk like a knife  sinking into my gut. Her...

Mrityunjay Mohan is a queer, trans, disabled writer of color. Mrityunjay's work has been published or is forthcoming in Broadkill...