The Baltimore Review

Because You Asked How I Could Stand Math

Michael T. Lawson - Because You Asked How I Could Stand Math

Poetry

Michael T. Lawson studied poetry and biostatistics at the University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill, earning a PhD in the latter and fostering a love of the former. His work has been published in… Read more »

Hurricane Shutters

Adriana Beltrano - Hurricane Shutters

Poetry

Adriana Beltrano is a poet from Jupiter, Florida. She is pursuing her MFA in poetry at Johns Hopkins University, where she is a managing editor of the Hopkins Review. She was named a 2024-25 Jake Adam… Read more »

Jellyfish

Tim Stobierski - Jellyfish

Poetry

Tim Stobierski writes about relationships, presented through the lens of his own experiences as a queer man. Recent poems are published or forthcoming in Chestnut Review, Gay & Lesbian Review,… Read more »

Lunch With My Aunt

Cammy Thomas - Lunch With My Aunt

Poetry

Cammy Thomas’s most recent book is Odysseus’ Daughter (Parkman Press, 2023), poems written in response to the Odyssey. Three previous poetry collections were published by Four Way Books. Cathedral… Read more »

Snowfall

Stefan Balan - Snowfall

Poetry

Stefan Balan is a Romanian-born American living in the Greater Boston area, where he works as an oncologist. In Romania he published one book of poetry and co-authored a volume of film criticism about… Read more »

Strange Baby

Carson Wolfe - Strange Baby

Poetry

Carson Wolfe is a Mancunian poet and Grand Prize Winner of The Disquiet Literary Program 2024. Their work has appeared with Poetry Magazine, The Rumpus, The Common, and Rattle. Their new book Coin… Read more »

Woo-Jin

Dolapo Demuren - Woo-Jin

Poetry

Dolapo Demuren is a Nigerian-American writer and educator from the Washington D.C. metropolitan area. He received his B.A. in Writing Seminars from Johns Hopkins University, M.F.A. from Columbia… Read more »

Woo-Jin

Dolapo Demuren

The last time I saw Woo-Jin he was poring over word problems at a table inside Eisenhower Library. The last time I saw him, he was wading through a wall of fireflies on a hill above Charles Village. He was disappearing into a hall– no, he was finishing a story, yes, finishing a story in my ear and could not get out the final act, the last time I saw him. The last time– a humid night in May; Woo-Jin marching back to his apartment, descending a hill outside my window– his tennis shoes like two lanterns leaping in the grass. What is true: the last time I saw Woo-Jin he was walking through an eternal row of endings.