Home on New Year’s by Dina Ben-Lev Never mind about being alone. At least when you need it, the bathroom’s unoccupied. Couples won’t...

Windigo by Louise Erdrich (published in her collection, Jacklight, 1984, Henry Holt Publishers) For Angela The Windigo is a flesh-eating,...

Soap by Karin Gottshall (published in Juked, 2013) It is full bitter winter when I begin to bleed. Too ashamed to tell. Aligning myself...

I’m not a religious person but by Chen Chen (published in his 2017 book, When I Grow Up I Want to Be a List of Further Possibilities, BOA) God sent an angel. One of his least qualified, though. Fluent only in Lemme get back to you. The angel sounded like me, early twenties, unpaid interning. Proficient in fetching coffee, sending super vague emails. It got so bad God personally had to speak to me. This was annoying because I’m not a religious person. I thought I’d mad

You Tell Me You Want to Live Close to Nature by Joan Mazza (published in The Mark Lit Review , August, 2021) You plan to have acreage, a garden, pots with herbs on every windowsill. You’ll have a dog and cat or maybe two of each, and wildlife will gather on your property, a sanctuary. How lovely the fantasy of back-to-the-earth, the simple life. I plant basil seeds in handmade flowerpots painted with dragonflies and flowers, with potting soil I store in the garage. The mic

Loveliest of trees, the cherry now by A. E. Housman Loveliest of trees, the cherry now Is hung with bloom along the bough, And stands about the woodland ride Wearing white for Eastertide. Now, of my threescore years and ten, Twenty will not come again, And take from seventy springs a score, It only leaves me fifty more. And since to look at things in bloom Fifty springs are little room, About the woodlands I will go To see the cherry hung with snow.

Saint Monica Burns It Down by Mary Biddinger (published in Valparaiso Poetry Review) It wasn’t her house, but she would strip it of its...

Arizona by Kaitlyn McNab (published in Electric Lit, Issue 171, 2021) I want to be whisked away to Arizona and kissed in the depression...

Poems I Probably Won’t Write About My Stepfather by Jennifer Stewart Miller (published in Crab Creek Review, March 25, 2021) On Holding...