Richard Becker
Chesapeake

Richard Becker - Chesapeake

Poetry
Richard Becker’s poetry has appeared in America: The National Catholic Review, Columbia: A Magazine of Poetry and Prose, Cold Mountain… Read more »
Michelle Matthees
Homemade

Michelle Matthees - Homemade

Poetry
Michelle Matthees’ poems have appeared in Memorious, PANK, The Prose Poem Project, and numerous other journals. Her first collection, Flucht,… Read more »
Greg Allendorf
Hominids

Greg Allendorf - Hominids

Poetry
Greg Allendorf is originally from Cincinnati, OH. His poems have appeared in or are forthcoming from such journals as Smartish… Read more »
Trent Busch
Lit

Trent Busch - Lit

Poetry
Trent Busch is a native of rural West Virginia who now lives in Georgia where he makes furniture. His poems… Read more »
Keith Dunlap
Motorboat Motorboat

Keith Dunlap - Motorboat Motorboat

Poetry
Keith Dunlap’s first collection of poems, Storyland, was published in June 2016 by Hip Pocket Press. His work has appeared… Read more »
Michael Homolka
Rhapsody with Impasse

Michael Homolka - Rhapsody with Impasse

Poetry
Michael Homolka is the author of Antiquity, winner the 2015 Kathryn A. Morton Prize in Poetry from Sarabande Books. His… Read more »
Amy Krohn
The House in Illinois

Amy Krohn - The House in Illinois

Poetry
Amy Krohn lives with her husband and three children in rural Wisconsin. Her poems have been published in Hummingbird, Kindred,… Read more »

Homemade

Michelle Matthees

Up with the dawn, down with the boat,

remaking each waking with work,
the purr of the motor, its small black cat

that sees in the dark. You

are careful with the oars and their locks
rowing from the dock before the rip cord

pulls its punch into the night.

Up the river we putter, plastic ducks
in burlap at our feet, relatives,

each with its own lead weight wrapped

around its neck. We unbend each shackle
in silence and toss them into

their own dark faces strafed with stars.

They bob a trail, the truth of a family
fooling for food,

and we take up our guns, plunk

the homemade green shells in,
snap the jaws shut, waiting

as if I weren’t a girl learning to kill,

frozen hands locking
up as the sun meets the moon of frost

flaking off your jacket

before the puff… Read more »