By James Croal Jackson Because I’ll be standing on a stackof tasks, procrastinatingunder the banana moongrabbing the confetti tailof sun in one hand, and in the otherpetting the catof my dreams, the one stillwith wings, purringas it falls to sleep. James Croal Jackson is a Filipino-American poet working in film production. His latest chapbook is…

and where else to go / but deeper?

Cart It is Saturday morning and I walk to the café, avoiding the storm that rolls in– black clouds hang from the luggage cart wheeled from trunk to room. There’s no place I claim on this Earth. As …

What I Leave Out When I Talk About Italy I am staringat boardedwalls inan Americanbar now thatI have turnedmy backon the pastyear, a monthago a distant fog if not forthe photosof mountainsand beachesa...

Be an AI, answer prompts, trigger a RAM crisis

ColdI used to be a treeleaves of ambitionnow I cannot find myself in sudden snow. Yes, I would melt in your handsa gray towel to soakup. What washed awaywashed me ashore,cold sand scratching skin. My ...

NEW POETRY we wore our best hunter-green waited patiently as men took a different kind of field we craved sustenance a resurrection a flight a waiting by window in the purple light under wrong tin roof what we tossed into sky we threw away our wing-missiles pigskins of self talons landing burrowing deep out of view what craft drunk disturbance in the flapping…

DrymouthBecoming paranoid of the tap.Humidity’s cracked-tongue illusion.Too many times I’ve said I love you–a train’s rumbling wakes me at night.The more water I drink the more bloodin my saliva in…

Sue Blaustein: “A Song for Centipedes” Felicia Clark: “Chrome Cheers” john compton: “[we play scrabble—]” Sam Culotta: “Voices in the Other Room” Jen…

Coming home. A dog sometimes. Desire. Living.