After Jennifer S. Cheng 1: the sea captured in a glass 2: a homophone for having enough for leftovers, a synonym for abundance 3: the fish, who have already forgotten you. It’s not personal 4: where memory fails, there’s still imagining 5: you. Not as an ocean but outside 6: glass and/or acrylic
Read MoreOne way to measure the passage of time is to count the number of days since you last had sex. I’ve lost count. I only know it’s
I am driving west, away from New Mexico, where Kai and I had made our home, when the shrubs suddenly give way to rock: Cliff faces scarred with eras past. Steep buttes
yellow hibiscus shrouds the cathedral feet in pieces of sunlight / the church full of sprack / he steps into a cassock / moves down the vestibule
When the world woke from burning / we wiped down the counters / and straightened the dishtowels.
Winner of the Sonora Review Issue 77 Fiction Contest, selected by Rebecca Makkai
I built a sky of my own on my bedroom ceiling. / This sky is bold & bright & blue and I know / the birds will fly away, but it’s okay.
All night, the frost-rimmed windowpane / conducts me into new states of sleep, / while town announcements beckon me back /
from days in my grandmother’s yard, /
Brandon Downing’s collections of poetry include The Shirt Weapon (2002), Dark Brandon (2005), AT ME (2010) and, most recently, Mellow Actions (2013). In 2007 he released a feature-length collection of short digital
lucidity a single rope the way in which there is no way detach allow myself a façade indistinguishable from change walk down the blockinto the empty morning air & here small thingsprecious
After Jennifer S. Cheng 1: the sea captured in a glass 2: a homophone for having enough for leftovers, a synonym for abundance 3: the fish, who have already forgotten you. It’s not