By Oak Morse I have visions of a hammer swinging into my face sideways through a car window though strapped in a seatbelt, there I go there goes the rasp of Grandma saying she loved me the blueberries I pushed up my brother’s nose the Jenga playdate with the shrink in glossy building like an elevator to heaven the tooth fairy who never came back now teeth tumble down my chest, clog my throat there goes creeping out late to watch grown-folks dance Mama

By Melanie Weckert Connecting genocidal colonialism in two continents. I see a bright thread floating from cloud to watchful bird, catching at feathers of grey and white, slipping through claws of razor-sharp, threading the water of the river to caress a fish, then soar to the top of Eagle Point Bluff. A kiss for the boy who looks heaven in the eye and sees for a moment an angel is there. We wind around children at play as unending games are ended and aun

By J.D. Scève He is at my door to collect a debt owed, My obol where patina trespassed over diseased metal. I’d polish it, but the glint from my eyes ceased yesterday, and succumbed to the pupillary void. Ragged birds poise on the weathervane, My feathered witnesses, Oh, how I wish thunder would dethrone them, And tear out that curiosity. He hunches under his smothering cloak, Stench wrings from the folds of the mottled cloth, As he steps over the threshold to my rooms. Flaye