Child Beauty Pageant Ghazal

Meg Eden

The woman in front of me at the post office says
she's mailing out her granddaughter’s hair. 
For pageants, she explains to us all.
She wins wherever she goes with that hair!
My grandmother always sent me beanie babies—
what is it like, instead, to get hair? 
The only wigs I wore were for Halloween. My mother
did my make-up for studio photos, my hair:
one year, ... Read More

Crèche Scene with My Son

John Philip Drury

No one would want that clinic on their lawn,
delivery room aglow in fluorescent light
where, since it belonged to a university,
each specialist had students who observed
the half-successful epidural drip.

The monitors that checked his vital signs
alarmed the nurses, who believed he might
be starved for air. They started agitating
to prep his mother for a Caesarian,
but no, the wires had ... Read More


Kathleen Zamboni McCormick

On July 26, St. Anne’s feast day, for as long as I can remember—though when I was younger, I did find it a bit tedious because I preferred to be out roller-skating early in the morning—Mother and I would go to Mass at St. Michael’s, our parish church in Cambridge, Massachusetts. Definitely wrong side of the tracks. My Wellesley ... Read More

Worlds and Volumes of Worlds

Ace Boggess

Carl walked down the POD to his cell. His flip-flops—inmates called them shower shoes—alternately popped against his heel and slurped when his feet pressed wet foam against the stone floor. He moved slowly to minimize the noises, which embarrassed him. Showering in general unnerved him, although he had no need for worry. These weren’t open showers like in the ... Read More

The Personal Trainer

Rebecca Lee

My office was once somebody else’s bedroom. For $350 a month, I could fit a desk and a

Useful Things

William R. Stoddart

Streetcars thunder over brick streets as
you ride from work each day of your single life,

covered in

Vagionia Delta

Liana Sakelliou
Translated by Don Schofield

I was searching by the sea
for the ancient harbor. Did an earthquake
destroy it? Alaric and his Visigoths?



Lyzette Wanzer

This sidewalk? The opposite side?

Dad was disdainful of homeless people. I was instructed not to give anything to them,


Joan Colby

It’s a myth, some say that salamanders
Prove the water table.
Yet I still seek that speckled affirmation
Lifting the well’s heavy

Horseback Riding

John Philip Drury

I was the only boy in Fifth Grade
in love with horses, reading Black Stallion books,
doodling appaloosas, palominos.

Hermes at The Spouter Inn

James J. Patterson

I was in the middle of a blissful summer, although I didn’t know it at the time. I was

Ann O’Malley

Matthew Banash

Ann wasn’t a freak of nature as much as she was simply of nature. Old? Yes. She joked that

like the bones of miro

John Sweet

and if the poem is not a place
and if the word is nothing more than
a smaller form of violence


William Thompson

My country cousins were coming, and I was finally going to meet the cousin without hands. They lived on


Alita Pirkopf

An art show
in a wealthy town.
A small
grown-up doll
housed in pink
plush rooms
in a showcased

Velvet linings
enclosed her,
an empty box


Anthony J. Mohr

Gari Hardy triggered a mob on the lawn. She was a seventh grader, one year behind me at the