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
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* Voltage-gated pathways are depolarizedand pore-forming membrane proteinsallow calcium influx from adjacent solutions. (Cell insides become saturated) Excitation is mossy fiber runningsouthbound head-stems and paired shootsthrough once-relaxed tissue. * You’ve established rules,preventative
Brenda K. Marshall’s first novel, Mavis, was published in 1996 (Fawcett-Columbine), and
What separates us from our lives / is a see-through thing. /
No one bothered telling me that my father was picking me up, so when I saw him outside school, I worried someone was dead. “Why the fuck would anyone be dead?” he
We spent our state tax refundon an inflatable hot tub, a bottle of peach wineand a couple filets of Alaskan salmon. Also— a bundle of asparagusI picked up at a carport farm
in a world where silkworms turn in the wind, into mothswith prodigious hunger & no mouths, where you are possible even the most
Eben E. B. Bein (they/he) is a biology-teacher-turned-climate-justice-educator at the nonprofit Our Climate. They were a 2022 Fellow for the Writing By Writers workshop and winner of the 2022 Writers Rising Up
My goddesses tell me that before i bow down and pray, imust kneel and heed i must kneedand heed the answers that becomemogras in the mouths of maa kali a world you
Woke up to shy blue//Thought about praying//Forgot how to//Kept my hands pressed together anyway//Drank half a pot of coffee//Used extra cream because my mouth//Wanted to feel as full as it does holding
Grasshoppers in the Virginia Foothills of Nevada are not your cute green cartoony hopper. They’re Hollywood monsters – true competitors of Mothra. Other animals wither in the hot baking summer sun while
i. There was a time. There is time, and it fools us. It really does toy. Like he put it, it is titillating, this foreplay with death. As one day dawns with
Alone as I am, the spirits waft in. The invisible reunion tingles my finger pads. I spread my arms like flying; give me your weight. A tarot spread asks to know you,
Deep in the crow boned blue onslaught certain plumes are apostles intoned to the skyfall with heavy luring I promised silkworms beetroots or a love poem for letting me murder winged-nomads Told
