Frank Learns to Juggle During Quarantine
Poetry
Shevaun Brannigan’s work has appeared in such journals as Best New Poets, AGNI, and Slice. She is a recipient of a Barbara J. Deming Fund grant and holds an MFA from Bennington College.
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Poetry
MEH is Matthew E. Henry, a multiple Pushcart and Best of the Net nominated poet. The author of Teaching While Black (Main Street Rag, 2020), he has recent and forthcoming works in The Amethyst Review,…
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Poetry
M. Drew Williams is from Western New York. His poems have appeared in publications such as Harpur Palate, Hobart, The New Territory, and Poetry South. He holds an MFA from Creighton University.
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Planting Camellias as an Act of Resistance
Poetry
Jeannine Hall Gailey served as the second Poet Laureate of Redmond, Washington. She's the author of five books of poetry: Becoming the Villainess, She Returns to the Floating World, Unexplained…
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Poetry
Rita Mookerjee is an Assistant Teaching Professor in the Women's and Gender Studies Program at Iowa State University. Her poetry is featured in Juked, Cosmonauts Avenue, New Orleans Review, Sinister…
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Poetry
John Blair has published six books, the most recent of which is Playful Song Called Beautiful (U. of Iowa Press, 2016), which won the Iowa Poetry Prize, and he has a seventh book, The Art of…
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Poetry
Katherine Gekker is the author of In Search of Warm Breathing Things (Glass Lyre Press, 2019). Her poems have been published in Delmarva Review, Little Patuxent Review, Broadkill Review, Poetry South,…
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Poetry
Andrew Kozma’s poems have appeared in Blackbird, The Believer, Redactions, and Bennington Review. His first book of poems, City of Regret (Zone 3 Press, 2007), won the Zone 3 First Book Award.
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Jeannine Hall Gailey
Bright March morning after snow.
News headlines about rising sea lines,
starving orcas, droughts. Early spring
brings bomb cyclones. Everyone
at the top’s a criminal. Cesium in the
sunflowers, strontium-90 in the dust.
This morning I dig in the dirt and plant
flowers, unnecessary, flagrant: a pink
camellia, jonquils, primroses. The blue jays
a tinnitus in the air, the little juncos jittering.
The resistance a wall of flowers rising
against the poison, against the screaming,
the satellites, wars and newsrooms. I don’t like
feeling helpless, silent in the face
of so much terror, so today I make plum jam.
The doctors say my nerves are getting thinner.
No wonder, shrinking against the agitation, atoms
vibrating together with the supermoon.
My brain has blank spaces now,
illumined by inflammation.
They say we will bring change, the moon
and me. Listen: every breath in this air
is an amplification, every petal a protest.
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