We built this cairn as we keened,
this flinty cairn marking us across blind fog,
above red fjords of solstice and equinox.
We fit stones together with our woolen hands.
We built this obelisk of haloes,
this obelisk of petrified cosmic dust,
focusing waves of zodiacal light.
Like lead and fire, together we yielded gold.
We built this parabola on ciphers,
parabola detecting rhythms of the planets,
faraway sulfurous ponds of biopoesis.
Together we whisper, is anyone out there?
We built this fractal antenna on the wing,
this tiny antenna receiving microwaves
through solar fountains and solar conjunctions.
Together we resonate across the continuum.
Katherine Williams, of Los Angeles and Charleston SC, has authored three chapbooks and given readings throughout both coasts. A Pushcart nominee, she has poems in Measure, Diagram, Spillway, Poemeleon, Rappahannock Review, and various anthologies. A community arts activist and surfer, she works in biomedical research and lives on James Island with her husband, poet Richard Garcia.
ISSUE ELEVEN: Yes, Sell My Art
Meghana Mysore
Object Permanence
Candice Iloh
Sexual Assault Survivor
Knar Gavin
HYDRA RING PINE LAND FIELD
Lori Anderson Moseman
Synthesizer
Mehrnoosh Torbatnejad
Return
Uche Ogbuji
Pinout
Katherine Williams
Math 345: Geometry of Solids
Taylor Napolsky
A Naive Festive
Jennifer MacBain-Stephens
Robot #15 (ornithology)
D.J. Parris
HIBERNACULUM
Laryssa Wirstiuk
Dammit Doll
Merridawn Duckler
Everything I Can’t Have in Luxe,
Pacific Northwest Magazine of
Interiors+Design, Spring 2016