Now at an oblique intersection I'll be innocently standing by and if a crime should be committed I'll be one of twenty people who saw nothing. Later, when five roots of unity are equally distributed around a circle in a complex plane I'll ask, Is there a doctor in the house, Is there a doctor in the house or is it me?
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