by Nathan Dennis | Apr 1, 2021
Eric Stone Eight-fingered hands, black plums of venom under logs, spiders jot silk to the wind where my kisses blow. I doubt they love me in return. To orchard weavers humans must seem Cthulhu-huge monsters smashing their flesh to paste, so light I can’t hear...
by Nathan Dennis | Apr 1, 2021
Stephen Jackson Pocket portfolio, a fatherly design, designated driver’s flask, lapsed bicycle license, the lions at night under streetlamps crowned with gold rays [the lions, that is] neither friendly nor vicious, the uncertainty charging the motherless air,...
by Nathan Dennis | Apr 1, 2021
Carson Wolfe I will not forget the day you held me by the hand and said, I take you as my wifeband and the registrar cried, you cannot queer language here. I must not forget every love-note ever sent. I am hellbent on archiving us in a library labelled home....
by Nathan Dennis | Apr 1, 2021
Evelyn F. Katz We sat in our staggered middle ages As teenagers with only a car to know Each other. Our fingers threaded A coffee and cream macrame Listening with middle-aged teenage angst To the soundtrack of us, on auxiliary Until my battery died. The...
by Nathan Dennis | Apr 1, 2021
Patrick Nevins Your love language wouldn’t fit in my apartment. Your love language couldn’t be returned without a receipt. Your love language would, honestly, look better on your ex. Your love language ruined the transmission in my little sports car. Your love...
by Nathan Dennis | Apr 1, 2021
Jabulile Mickle-Molefe 1 The physician said it would be brief, like lust. Like whatever leaves sages folding their hands in resignation, blighted by insatiable want. I was hunger and swelling, counting the tiles on the ceiling when you entered, bearing...
