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“On Mothers and Daughters” by Rowan Aubrey Sloane
My mother grew up moving. The only place she has told me about is Dayton, Ohio. She grew up moving, orbiting Wright-Patterson Air Force base where her father, the colonel, was stationed off and on. She grew up orbiting, but people aren’t satellites, and she doesn’t bring up her past much. The only…
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A Series of 3 Poems by Samuel J. Fox
An Update from Baptist Country Like a ghost swallow, Christ was lifted into the wide, empty fields of heaven by the wind. Yes, wide. Indeed, empty. You don’t want to die before you see the face of God in the eaves of a pink dogwood tree. If you don’t, you weren’t truly…
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“I SLICED INTO MY NAIL BED WITH A RAZOR BLADE BY ACCIDENT WHILE LISTENING TO RANCID AND WASHING OUT YELLOW HAIR DYE, AND DESPITE THIS BEING POSSIBLY THE MOST PUNK ROCK THING ABOUT ME, I STILL SCREAMED AT THE TOP OF MY LUNGS, ‘OH FUCK’” by Kate Wilson
of course this is all to say I collected the droplets of blood in a little glass vial with a cork lid and added plant growth hormones to stop it from growing stagnant it smelled horrible like all those times my dad made me go on long, awkward walks with him after it rained and…
José Guadalupe Posada
