Matt Morton – The Tourist 

Matt Morton The Tourist Across the street, Deathwas leaning over the fireescape. On the gutterthe pigeons gathered,rehearsing the same oldargument about flight,whether to go, to stay.We weren’t sure what to make of it: the pigeonssquabbling like pigeons,the heap of wire burningon the corner, casual passers-by capturing the blazeon their phones. Sittingin a circle on the grass,we […]

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J. Preston Witt // A Shovel, a Chest, a Tree, a Fence, a Loon, a Heron, a Hole

J. Preston Witt A Shovel, a Chest, a Tree, a Fence, a Loon, a Heron, a Hole I used to make mudshoes out of sticks and mud. They were the most comfortable shoes until you went and tried to leave in them. They were standing and looking shoes, not walking shoes. I did it practically […]

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Lindsay Tigue – Abandoned Places

Lindsay Tigue Abandoned Places So maybe I am a townfor ghosts. And I know thatplaces can fall in love with those who stay awhile,those who sweep the crackingstairs, repair the panes on all the windows. In the Sierras, on the border between Nevada and California sits Bodie—its decaying wood and still-stocked stores.In my mind, these towns,are never […]

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Shelley Whitaker – My Future as a Ghost

Shelley Whitaker My Future as a Ghost Maybe I’ll linger in some Appalachian motel,windows scrubbed by dead branchand dry wind, sleep in a bedwhose flowers have been pressedinto silhouette by years and years of bodies. Here I’ll dream of reaching hands—flickering into pixel, into shadow. Outside, ghosts of poolboyswill sift dead leaves in and outof the […]

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Peter LaBerge – Invocation & The Lakeswept

Peter LaBerge Invocation First, the bedsheets unlearnthe language of each bodyI’ve ever loved. The bedbucking shadows like rodeo clowns.The lungs stable in their nestof cordwood until the wind blowsthe whole house down. The panelsof sun, softer than silk. It does not comequickly, my mother says, learninghow to unravel somebody else. The unzipof a dress godly […]

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Kathryne Lim – Bone Tower of Gangnam District

Kathryne Lim Bone Tower of Gangnam District A  clear  glass  columnfilled     to  the  top   withjawbone   parts,      someplastic    surgeon’s    ideaof  art.     The sawed   offmandibles     resemblingancient   tusks;    clippedfingernails     yellow      &piled;   a   million       halfmoons  crushed.       Out-lawed      &     dismantledfor   lack   of   taste,   butthe      real   masterpieceremains      the      young women     who     wanderthrough    Seoul    […]

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