Author Archives: voicemailpoems

by Laura E. Davis I was on my back that morningstanding still & runninghalf-turned, fetal &spread eagle & curled up along the edgeof the hospital bedand the doctor says“It’s time,” & I already know becauseit has always beentime, time to push & sheis explaining to mehow to push, how to undulate you from my body& as she explainsI bringContinue reading “How to Push”

Laura E. Davis Jessie Knoles Cortney Lamar Charleston Romaine Washington Olatunde Osinaike Katherine Indermaur Kelly Jones Alison Kronstadt Dagmawe Berhanu John Quinonez James Barrett Rodehaver Andy Powell

by Zach Goldberg as silent and holy as an empty church. a polished row of pews. you, moonin the sky, how do you do it? your one-handed gravityholding still the earth. astral magic trick, you newly christened old god. every family’s forgotten dance is a scar on your surface. memory like a bear trap. worldfodder magnet. wise old sledgehammeronce smashed throughContinue reading “Moon”

by Stacey Teague remember bodies at night how they glow how they bend into us like refracted light the memory of where a body was after it has left its phosphorescence you cocoon into the spaces around things find yourself in auburn eyes and hazel skin the red that flows from you you learn thatContinue reading “Whero”

by Taylor Jaczin yeah i’ve got a lighter. can fix your filter. give you honey stick secrets and light tight roll laughter when you call me blue dream like your favorite strain like your favorite character ramona you know the blue of your dreams? yeah they’re both pierced. few things hurt so good like aContinue reading “Manic Pixie POV”

by Caroljean Gavin In the palm of my hand I harborFault lines, one-way streets,A famous bridge half-crossed andAnother I steered from the passenger’s seatWhile the driver smoked weedSuch honking dreams in the patchouli, Of frolicking unhindered, ofSlapping my feet in my Sunday shoesDown my aunt’s hardwood hallway.The earthquakes always come.I’ve cracked off into the ocean. Every day’sContinue reading “Never Trust a Snowglobe”

by Mariah Bosch A man in a powder blue suitoffered to tell me my futureon Olive Avenue. When I tried to say no, he said Baby, please,in a way that told me that he might know something thatI didn’t, so I held out my palm. I used to hold out the same palmon the playground for otherContinue reading “Reading Lines”

by Sara Hutchinson I stay in bed til 2 then get up and open all the windows. Make coffee and walk aroundthe 5 x 10 space I call my living room. Turn my attention to the postcardsand photographs on the fridge. Stare hard at all that evidence. Whisper: See, there’s no reason to be lonely.Smoke one cigarette and then anotheronContinue reading “On Sundays”

by Emryse Geye I.I fall in love every time I fly. Leaving Dallas: the medical student wearing headphones and a full headscarf just to forget her be-planed predicament. Above Tucson: the sorority sister with the strawberry hair whose father is waiting at the baggage claim; they leave, arms over shoulders over arms. In Denver. The woman in security: her bright eyes contradictthe softening skin on herContinue reading “200 Words About Airports”

by Tria Wood When are you going to move closer?The space aches between us.It invents its own language. The jagged edge of the ocean paints the sand dark,retreats into its own swollen urge, arcs forward to tease the shore with the inexorable inevitable that drives my hands into the unwritten darkto pull the tide of you over me. Drown me,roll meContinue reading “Invitation”