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 MoreWhen 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, /
but I remember how it felt to be perfectly contained / beside my mom in bed / tucked into her soft t-shirt / while she wrapped around me / pulled me into
in the forest, a debris cloud of woodpeckers crack their throats & the night promises nothing more or less than rain. your damp house huddles low, waiting for wind or a heavy
According to Jan Krufka of Hard Facts Magazine, my studio apartment was a musty, dank lair. He told his readers about the tissues I had tucked into the crevices of my corduroy
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