We rode four across the back seat me in the middle without a seatbelt. I was shy and the others’ buckles dug into me.
our eyes have crusted like pressed apricots the mountains drip over our footsteps
by Danielle Cowan American Body “The reality of theAmericanbodyIs about to come crashing down hard”—Ask Reddit, March 2020 Before finding all the creative writing workshops and community-making migrating to Zoom,I collected a Reddit comment that seemed like the least Corona-covered contaminant to consume. Is it theAmericanbodyOf the 1 train conductor?calling out “the next stop will … Continue reading American Body. Poetry Honorable Mention.
I love the smell of racism in the morning
My daughter pierces my soul “Ma, I do my Black girl in the mirror and my White girl at school.”
It’s bedtime so we’re embracing our new roles:she’s watching the baby monitor and listeningto an Audible, I’m reading a paperback andthinking, thinking so much I need to turn the paper backand forth and back and forthlike the rocking I just did for the little staron the little screen atop the little table next to an oversized bed … Continue reading “Brown Hair, Gray-Blue Eyes” by Jay J. Dermer, 2020 Poetry Spring/Summer Contest Winner
Photo by W W at Pexels Born and raised in India, Manisha Sharma is a Jack Grapes Poetry Award, American Short(er) Fiction Contest semifinalist. Her work addresses feminist/ social issues across genres and disciplines. New poetry is forthcoming in Choice Words Anthology. The Fourth River, The Arkansan Review, Puerto Del Sol, Saturday Poetry Series, TAB, … Continue reading “Electronic Inquiry for a New Media Exhibit @ the Indian Embassy in Washington DC” by Manisha Sharma, 2020 Poetry Winter Contest Winner
The men stopped their truckand sprung from it when they saw mewalking near the underpass.They crossed the roadstraight towards me. My ears thuddedfrom the argument that set meout there, and it was blackout by then. I just wanted to go home. The men from the truck looked toughbut I didn't want to run.They walked behind … Continue reading “Pool of Light” by Susan Alkaitis, 2019 Poetry Fall Contest Winner
Beware the nagging possibility of perpetual violence etched in shadows of evening trees! - the Mother in my head I. If I could step out of gender push the weighty glove of caution away from mouth I’d startle every scarecrow leave no frosted corn field or rocky outcrop … Continue reading “Gender Side Effects and Stars” by Alison Terjek, 2019 Poetry Winter Contest Winner
Sometimes after all the work, after cutting the cling from the stone and excising the bruises, after measuring the pectin and balancing the tart lemon with a mountain of sugar-- sometimes still something goes bad. The pectin fails or the peaches turn brown, or in the final instance a jar cracks in the boil and … Continue reading “Peach Jam” by Sara Eddy, Fall Poetry Winner 2018