ANTEPARTUM: GIRL

by Faith Gómez Clark

The ultrasound technician probes
the mother’s bulging belly,
wiggles it, trying
to get the fetus to share
the secret between its legs.

But the mother already knows.
She thinks of her …

At Blue Lake

by Nicole Callihan

The hands are not stopped at noon,
are pouring clean water from a green pitcher.
The vacancy in me flashing from the road.
Swimming pool. CABLE TV. Park in back.

Marriage Lesson: Fight

by Iris Jamahl Dunkle

Am sea deep and seaweed thick tangled. Am
weighted blanket, hide.   Am hush of woods, not

a needle stirred. Am crack of oak, fallen.
shush of purpled sky under fist …

Missing Church Again

by Eric James Cruz

Today, no song, God, repentance
ringing as words flute up through rafters.

What remains: a bird feeder heavy
with seed, like a soon-to-be

mother swaying. And finches,
cardinals, away from …

Pandemic Playtime #1

by Keetje Kuipers

Because my daughter is afraid. Because she checks
and double-checks the doors, the windows, the ones
even that hang thirty feet above the ground. Because
there might be a person, …

Break Room

by Terry Lucas

Walls, once milk-white, now scalded from the flame

of years, a broken black line from folding chairs

leaned back, scuffing paint. You can tell

full-timers—propped-up feet, the way they sit

on brocade cushions …

Yellow Wallpaper Resident Alien

by Sujash Islam Purna

Tie my shoes, my self-portrait running for fun

in the deep woods, poisoned with the soot

of another forest fire in the distance, another Oregon
 

I didn’t know how to spell the …

Guns on TV

by James Garrett

I like guns in TV shows.
The guns on TV shows are just like guns,
Like the people shooting other people
On TV shows are just like people.

I like …

WWW

by June Daowen Lei

In childhood, you thought that the world

could be had: consumed like cut-up melon.

 

Looking at the map curling up the classroom wall—

its gradient landmasses and oceans—

 

you thought, what sort of …

Beefy Heels

by Tonya Suther

“Put your shoes on,”
he says from the couch,
“There’s thorns on the porch,”
only I was knee-deep in the mop bucket.
The soapy grey water wouldn’t protect my feet

Obsession

by Doria Shafik | translated by Glenn Fetzer

In sleepless nights
In the depths of despair
where not a ray
can be glimpsed
I think of you . . .

The ties are broken
the ropes snapped
and …

How to Write a Poem During a Pandemic

by Adina Kopinsky

If, in the middle
of the night, words
come; ignore
 
let the sleeping children
need you
 
though waves 
of light approach
 
let the man with whom you …