Boona DaroomJun 14, 20171 minTwo poems // Boona DaroomSub-glistening The wood burns. Red nubs spark. On a black match Stick I smell smoke. Blues call the police In the breeze. I mash the...
Kirby WrightMar 12, 20172 minThree flashes // Kirby WrightThe Mushroom Ghosts of Finland I have a strange confession—ghosts are nibbling on purple mushroom caps. It’s easy to see because the...
Natasha GoldFeb 26, 20173 minTwo poems // Natasha GoldCarrion 1. To think of the decaying as an ecosystem. 2. Our ecosystem is fluid, our green mouths grinning grass through our wet teeth We...