ISSUE FIVE: My Laser Style | next poem →

November is an anagram for fishhook

Geramee Hensley

After the lahar baptized these lands,
our mouths became extinct volcanoes—
you coughed a soul-shaped pumice.

A potential sound is not a sound
at all. After I ran out of my skin, I polluted
the paisley atmosphere with my torrid

aura. These moments transpired
like Faberge eggs that crack
out another smaller egg, and that egg

a smaller egg until you have an exorcism
to get the me out of me, a paper ghost, huffing
at stars before the sky waxes into statue.

Geramee Hensley is from Cleveland, Ohio. He attends Capital University where has taught a portion of a creative writing class. He is the Co-Editor-in-Chief for the student literary magazine, ReCap and Managing Editor for the student newspaper, The Chimes. His work has been featured in Souvenir Lit Journal, Melancholy Hyperbole, The Harpoon Review, and is forthcoming in JAB.

ISSUE FIVE: My Laser Style | next poem →

ISSUE FIVE: My Laser Style

Geramee Hensley
   November is an anagram
     for fishhook

Taunja Thomson
   Skull, My Former

Rachel J. Bennett
   Level with Animals
   Field Dressing
     My Favorite Animal

   For the Programmer

Sean M. Conrey
   Alan Lomax Translation No. 1:
      Nimrod Workman, 'Mother
      Jones Will' (1983)

   Alan Lomax Translation No. 2:
      "Belton Sutherland's
      Field Holler" (1978)

Heather McNaugher
   Nature & Environmental
     Writing Workshop

Thea Goodrich
   Keynes & Keats as the Keystone
     Cowboy: Infinite Iterations

Vanessa Couto Johnson

Raymond Farr
   Encroachment on a Dry Source

Kristin LaFollette
   The Burial

Anna Kreienberg
   a tornado poem

Alejandro Escudé
   A Proper Pressurized Blast

Cathryn Cofell