Tag Archives: 2024

Dandelion by Sara Van Reymersdal

I’ve always been a weedflower shooting up from sidewalk cracks, siphoning water from the tulips, clawing out of the heavy mulch because the gardeners decided I wasn’t good enough. Time and time again—from poison, shears, or wood chips—they hissed, go away. You don’t belong. Yet I couldn’t abandon my life on their whim. Each timeContinue reading “Dandelion by Sara Van Reymersdal”

Survival of the Smallest by Ella J. Rossman

On my hike I pause for water by the remains of a tree. I observe from my sitting place deer bounding past And squirrels skittering through layers of leaves. I hear a mechanical roar down the mountain, Which I try to ignore. A far away crack, then a crash— Another ancient life lost. My handsContinue reading “Survival of the Smallest by Ella J. Rossman”

The Peace Testimony by Amanda Charowsky

Chester County in the Pennsylvania Countryside, 1777 Her father left at the same time every night. Two hours before supper— if he was even back for it. She still prepared the cold meats and cheeses, watched from the kitchen as he lowered his head, stepped out into the waning autumn sunlight, and stood at theContinue reading “The Peace Testimony by Amanda Charowsky”

Hail by Julia Stetts

Exhuming the Grave of King Richard III Oh, poor hunchbacked bastard!  Beneath a parking lot, your remains  Were excavated: the grave of a dastard  Crouched in purgatorial chains  Of sewage pipes and rooty veins.  An arrowhead at the base of your skull  Spelt a merciful death in battle—  But oh! A sword in your ass?Continue reading “Hail by Julia Stetts”

Polaroid (a Sestina) by Elise Bach

I flipped the glossy paper, the sun’s glare Illuminating pictures of our forgotten half-truths. I don’t remember them; my mind pulls nothing As I try my best to recall them. Maybe they’re trash. My brain threw away the photos of you, But I remember they used to be sacred. To forgetful minds and blackened hearts,Continue reading “Polaroid (a Sestina) by Elise Bach”

Testing Limits by Julz Martin

It’s not likelaying in balls of yarn,but likelayingin crocheting hooks and scissors. Seeing everyone as they are,Big eyes,listening,Can take you away. Riding prideTo learn sin;It’s like a rush,Arush in a gust of wind. Why are you so tired of it?Its pulling hair,And bare feetOn wet pavement.

The Arresting by Louie Alexandris

Caravaggio and me hanging in the back, Me and Caravaggio hanging way back. We sing, we dance, we know no better Then the blessed rest, for the great sacrifice Of the fleshed man. Still, when I awaken in a cold sweat, And sing my foolish song; Horror, Horror, Horror To the man of that day.Continue reading “The Arresting by Louie Alexandris”

Justice’s Signature Ballad by Louie Alexandris

The sun had started to dawn in the East. Its youthful rays spread across the wide swath of the barren plains and dusty dunes. The streams of light baked the ground underfoot into fine silica that seemed to flow every which way with the gentle breeze of the winds. Out of the sands, sun-baked stonesContinue reading “Justice’s Signature Ballad by Louie Alexandris”

Failure by Rafael Vazquez Quintero

Daniel Marsh’s arm bent around the two white sheets of paper on his desk. Halfway through filling the bubble on his answer sheet, he heard the hushed voice of Nicky Smith to his left, followed by a swift kick to his sneakers: “Let me copy, four-eyes.” Nick Smith was the menace most kids in Mrs.Continue reading “Failure by Rafael Vazquez Quintero”