Photography © Allison Goldin

Two Poems by Julia Carlson


Her, At the Red Table She asks about how to Walk toward death. Brisk. A slow shuffle Jazz step in a dark room. Will there be blue notes Or risen sun. Our hands Cold from reflected snow. I have a headache, she says Tossing her heavy hair Past her shoulder Its thick shimmer gleaming Black,…

Banner design © TJ Edson

Jagged Thought #22: Bus Princess


Here in the epicenter of everything There is one lonely angel And she waits for me She is neither far or near In everything she is everything But still not quite there And I’m not quite clear Of her existence I dream she exists In all her brilliance Taking the slain 87 To her She…

Photography © Allison Goldin

Poem by Crystal Condakes


Clean Slate You wake at night to strange noises, I say shhhh, it’s only the wind. You think something is one fire, but all things being equal the poison is just as sweet as the honey and with it comes forgetting. There’s nothing to fear. You and me, we’re in this together. The first time…