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POETRY


The Lady of Ice Drowned in the Rising Tides

By Anton Cancre in Issue Nine, June 2023

The burning comes earlier
and earlier each year, as we march
our way further down this angry path.
Seems I can recall passes
round the sun where snow
still fell in great heaping drifts
from the sky well into March.


War Dream: Bridged

By L. Acadia in Issue Nine, June 2023

Last night, I was in a grim, dusty, subdued Poland,
like a modern theatrical production imagining medieval gloom,
bleached palette, pre-industrial quiet, charred air.


Picture This

By Monica Louzon in Issue Eight, March 2023

waves crashing over us
i said goodbye to your

         two hands cupping a prismatic star
         shining lighthouse bright
         over dark, indigo waters


Tale of the Beast

By Anuja Mitra in Issue Eight, March 2023

first they called me woman,
then sorceress,
then beast.

blessed in girlhood, I knew men
wouldn’t love me for my magic.


Instructions from a Signalman

By Crystal Sidell in Issue Eight, March 2023

Now, this is most important: Before the light in their eyes flicks off
you must ignite the wick, set it near the head, be ready to reignite it in
case breath or wind or rain snuffs out the flame. If you trip, the
mortal’s thread will be at risk of seizure because the distance


Seafoam Sestina

By Jessica Peter in Issue Eight, March 2023

As she’s borne softly on the waves,
salt hangs aloft, brining her lips.
Palm trees sway on nearby shores,
but unease gathers in her heart.
It’s paradise, yet she’ll not forget:
her home feels like it’s not enough.


Little Arson Grasses

By Jennifer Crow in Issue Seven, November 2022

If you love me, you will burn.
Put your cheek against mine
and feel the heat my bones
release into the world. We plant
ourselves in dry soil and gather


In and out of water

By Overcomer Ibiteye in Issue Seven, November 2022

There’s a fierce audacity about water:
the way it barges into palimpsest buildings unannounced
the way the buildings are sucked into a void
the way the water barrels our bodies into a concave
cross-referencing us with open tombs.


That Monster Beneath the Bed

By Beth Cato in Issue Seven, November 2022

bedtime is the worst
mama off giggling and cooing
with her latest boyfriend

me sent to my room
ordered not to come out

the thing beneath my bed
oozes out and wants to talk


The Blood Tithe

By J.D. Harlock in Issue Seven, November 2022

when the smog finally devoured the dying sun,
the creatures of the night
made a throne of the carnage
and a kingdom of the earth