“Throne World” By Armoni Boone

[On Crafting A] Throne World   “Opinor ergo sum” —  — my pen singing in the same key as a birthday candle’s dulcet surrender a wailing mother, a cooling Glock, an emergency call to prayer, a kiss hello, a welcome home.   Of all the realms hidden between your synapses,

“The Wisdom of Leaves” By Dawn Vogel

The trees, shedding, drop an accumulation of colored leaves across the forest floor. The animals, passing, observe their falling and interpret them like tarot cards.   Those leaves make the shape of a Pegasus about to take flight. The birds take solace in the image, knowing their journey will be

“Desert Ghosts” by Deborah L. Davitt

cresting white dunes, a long, hot trek—watchsidewinders slither across the ghostly bonesof a prehistoric sea taste the alkali,     the bitterness of lost waters against your thick tongue;     the mirage in the distance taunts you with your thirst when you close your eyes     plesiosaurs swim nearby— pressure bands

“Metaphysical Memory Museum” by Avra Margariti

First, it was wine and an assortment of cheeses. Then a walk through the park, the jasmine air slithering mildly between them. Later, on her porch, when a younger couple might have kissed in fleeting secrecy, she said, “Can I interest you in a tour of my museum?” Yes, he

“Large Battles” by Margaret Karmazin

The Seezali ship is visible ahead, darting in and out of asteroids as it approaches. Its crew apparently believes they are invisible but we Kalahamar can see through any cloaking device. The ship is twice the size of ours, but this won’t matter once we employ the Contraction. The thing

“Walking Ghosts” by Ella Wade

It was like this: she was there  until she wasn’t  In the time it takes for the sun to dip below the ground  She left everyone  Towards new sights and new sounds  New quiet like quiet she’d never known before  New darkness like the darkness behind your eyelids can’t hold

“Inheritance” by Sarah Edwards

I hold your image in between my thumb and forefinger. The white has faded and has begun to yellow. The black-inked you captivate my imagination. A moment is captured, unaware, and lost in thought on a bustling Ohio street. Tall man. Smart suit. Porkpie hat. A tie fluttering a second

“No Longer” By Emily Kate Hastings

No-longer-living things are everywhere in this house.  They shouldn’t be shocked by this. Not really. Not if they thought about it. No-longer-living things sit in their sinks too, and hide in their medicine cabinets, parade on countertops, loiter in corners of garages, and drape apathetically over chairs. Capitalist clutter fills

The World It Softly Lulls: Daria Dockery on Gender, The Ancestors, and The Land by Gabrielle Lawrence-Cormier

Earlier this year, Daria Dockery, an artist and internet friend tweeted, “when i accepted that my non-binary identity is about relating to my ancestors and not other non-binary people i got really free.” Intrigued by my own fascinations with memory and ancestry, and my own questions about gender, I pressed

“Drought, Human Stones, and the Arthropodocene: Reading T.S. Eliot’s The Waste Land in the Anthropocene” by Erik Fuhrer

The idea of the apocalypse has received new meaning and urgency in the 21st century due to an increasing scientific and cultural awareness of anthropogenic climate change that threatens a sixth extinction on Earth (Ceballos). The term Anthropocene, formally coined by Paul Crutzen and E.F. Stoermer in 2001, solidifies our

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