It keeps me limping in these clayey, foot- tamped cuts, working my way through lilting shoots and thorny boughs that look like stanzas. Bare- foot, I feel warm sensations in the deep ruts left by long-gone waggoneers, whose cold words cling, frost-like, to the echoes of my heels. My throat swells shut from allergens I’ve kicked up—my lozenges are almost…
Alina Zollfrank dreams trilingually in the Pacific Northwest. Her work has won the DIAJ Award and been nominated repeatedly for Best of the Net and The Pushcart Prize. Her creative nonfiction and poetry have recently appeared or are forthcoming in The MacGuffin, Salt Hill, Burningword, Gyroscope Review, Bicoastal Review, Stonecoast Review, and Sunlight Press. Alina is a haphazard but passionate…
They said it was the coolest fight ever, my cousins did. A little older than me and boys to boot, their fathers had kept them out late at the fisherman’s pub the night before. We ate dinner there every night on those annual surf-fishing trips. As my cousins told me the story of how a fight started over a game…
Lindsay Rockwell opens the shared landscape of poetry, healing and the sacred. She’s recently published, or forthcoming in Guernica, Plume, Poetry Northwest, Tupelo Quarterly, Poet Lore, SWWIM, among others. Her collection, GHOST FIRES, was published by Main Street Rag, April 2023. Her manuscript, A Woman and Her Gods was a finalist with Lit Fox Books and a semi-finalist for the…
we do not join the navy we are the navy that sails through cities, that docks on your sidewalks with ragged boots and jackets for masts and bedrolls for gunwales our noses are prows our behinds are poop decks our smells are dead salmon what you shun and escape and leave for rats to ravage no address necessary when you’re…