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.
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
augury
Raymond Farr
Encroachment on a Dry Source
Kristin LaFollette
The Burial
Anna Kreienberg
a tornado poem
Alejandro Escudé
A Proper Pressurized Blast
Cathryn Cofell
Throb