It's where death's sting would want to go. In overtime I change my ways. With Gertrude Stein I beg to differ. It's not yellow, it's a yellow cat and you're so subcutaneous when you hallucinate me my lipoma. Thank you. May I have another? May I be in perpetuity your crumple zone?
Heikki Huotari is a retired professor of mathematics. In a past century, he attended a one-room country school and spent summers on a forest-fire lookout tower. His poems appear in several journals, recently in Diagram and Puerto del Sol, and he's the winner of the 2016 Gambling the Aisle chapbook contest.
ISSUE FOURTEEN: La Mer Systyle
Jana Rosinski
speaking ovarian cancer
Emma Bolden
Roleplaying in Boardrooms
and Bedrooms
Bathemetry
Shankar Naryan
Psalm from the Old World
Oppenheimer
Heikki Huotari
I'll Be
Autonomic
Vivian Wagner
Notes for a Poem about News
Jesi Bender
The Wedding of Psyche
John Ebersole
The Vine of the Dead
Lana Bella
Plank & Resin
Cocaine Sunset
Travis Macdonald
A The Is The The Is The A
by Lila Zemborain
KJ Hannah Greenberg
Gators Packed Like Multinationals
in Excelsior
Terry Wright
Inside the Roche Limit
Donald Illich
Because an Island is Encouragement