Devin McCarthy

Devin Patrick McCarthy was 18 years old (at the time of this poem’s submission) and had lived in Oregon all of his life. Devin says, “I have traveled into Canada and Mexico and hope to attend the imfamous “Jack Kerouac School of Disenbodied Poetics” in Denver in the upcoming year. If there is one thing […]

Paul Luikart

The Nature of Things The Rainstorm, The Wind, The Volcano, She howled. And the salt rivers flowed away from their blue-green beginnings slowly, ever so slowly, hesitating, and gradually, glistening, gainingwithconfidence carved a crooked channel and dripped dripped dripped onto a stark concrete mouth. And the howling wind whipped a straggly cat o’ ninetails her […]

Janet I. Buck

Artichokes All the years of pressure cookers rocking on the stove. My belly full of finding ways to dance around your piercing eyes that rested like a robin’s eggs on fences leaning in the dawn. Moments split like stale nuts your daughters always gathered up and tried so very hard to save. The cookie dough […]