ISSUE SIX: Smallest Eyry | next poem →

Outskirts of Flagstaff

William Doreski

Like a pair of aerial railroads,
A crisscross of electric lines.
Blob of transformer, two struts
Crucified against oatmeal sky.
Most frightening, a flag mural

Basted on the slab of a warehouse,
Or whatever that blank structure is.
Less frightening, barbed wire
Aced against the foreground, lanced
Through several competing dimensions.

Fatal, maybe, but honest. The wires—
Electric or barbed—tautened
To holographic perfection
Like staves of music hand—drawn
With grim professional care.

William Doreski lives in Peterborough, New Hampshire, and teaches at Keene State College. His most recent book of poetry is The Suburbs of Atlantis (2013). He has published three critical studies, including Robert Lowell's Shifting Colors. His essays, poetry, fiction, and reviews have appeared in many journals.

ISSUE SIX: Smallest Eyry | next poem →

ISSUE SIX: Smallest Eyry

Anna Lena Phillips

Carly Greenberg

Owen Lucas

Kate Bernadette Benedict
   Wonders of Biotech

Sandra Sidman Larson
   Living Through the Dark
   Walking Through The New ADC
      Telecommunications Factory

William Doreski
   Outskirts of Flagstaff

Paul Siegell
   M__TM___RE (37)

Ellen McGrath Smith
   The Self-Flattery of the Old Soul:
     The Old Soul Is Missing a Sock

Daniel Ari
   Consider the Machine

Elisha Holt
   Desert Survival Guide:
     Motel Sounds

Kristina Webster Shue

Paul Strohm
   Dit Dot Dit