Two Poems | Ryan Varadi

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Still Life with Lack of Nesting The oaks in New Orleans were restless, their rootslike fat fingers rummaging under sheets, pushing sidewalk up to sea level. The streetcar was free—or at least,

Knowledge of God and Ego— | Brie Baker

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Eden Sundays, Tuesdays, Wednesdays brought up in belief before it was mine bible thumping, backneck kinda indoctrination on our hands and knees before the Lord  that everlasting ache in the rib of Eve subservient, superpassible by the

Monk | Nichi Rae Jackson

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Monk I Driving the I-90 I met a Monk. Monk and I became friends of a material wealth. One day Monk pricked a flower from between the highway cracks and told me to put