Shevaun Brannigan
Committed

Shevaun Brannigan - Committed

Poetry
Shevaun Brannigan is a graduate of the Bennington Writing Seminars, as well as The Jiménez-Porter Writers’ House at The University… Read more »
Jeff Whitney
Meteors

Jeff Whitney - Meteors

Poetry
Jeff Whitney is the author of five chapbooks, two of which were co-written with Philip Schaefer. His poems can be… Read more »
Andrew Collard
Portrait With Elegy And Iodine

Andrew Collard - Portrait With Elegy And Iodine

Poetry
Andrew Collard lives in Kalamazoo, MI, where he attends grad school and teaches. His recent poems are forthcoming in Mid-American… Read more »
Audrey Gradzewicz
Song of Marshall Applewhite

Audrey Gradzewicz - Song of Marshall Applewhite

Poetry
Audrey Gradzewicz was born in Buffalo, New York. Her poems have been published by, or are forthcoming from, Southern Indiana… Read more »
Rebecca Bornstein
Summer Vacation

Rebecca Bornstein - Summer Vacation

Poetry
Rebecca Bornstein is a poet and worker currently living in Portland, Oregon. She’s held jobs as a production cook, professional… Read more »
Devon Miller-Duggan
Tales

Devon Miller-Duggan - Tales

Poetry
Devon Miller-Duggan has published poems in Rattle, Shenandoah, Margie, Christianity and Literature, and Gargoyle. She teaches Creative Writing at the… Read more »
Gail Martin
Their Shapes Determined By How Cold The Air

Gail Martin - Their Shapes Determined By How Cold The Air

Poetry
Gail Martin is the author of two books, Begin Empty-Handed (Perugia Press) and The Hourglass Heart (New Issues). A Michigan… Read more »

Their Shapes Determined By How Cold The Air

Gail Martin

Dendrites are the pretty ones, the fern-like ones we tried
to cut from paper.

Plates are very thin and take a long time to stack up.

Columns can be hollow or capped like unfilled spools. Bullets.

This week has been needle snow, piercing and raw, two bad cancers,
then three, snow accumulating on a black collar.

So there’s snow like chipped teeth, and baby teeth saved in a little cup.
And snow like shy sugar.

There is, as I’ve said, childhood, its ghost snow, ivory soap flakes floating
into shredded tissue. Easily molded. Faux snow.

And adult snow, where we carry on, wear our exhausting coats.
Read more »