S.T. POWELL/ SHOOTING RABBITS

The Leviathan in the ocean of my dreams was a large, white woman who fed on oil rigs; but she was much smaller through the optics’ distorted light. Naturally, I didn’t trust anything. I questioned the bullet’s physics, and it pleaded innocent to the court like a swastika hijacked by tyrannical symbolism. Nature loaded the […]

PARKER TETTLETON/ THREE POEMS

Puffin This is the rest of minutes & ours are ours. A sidewalk is the second sentence. We’re blocks past the last ninth month. We’re a cigarette without smoke. I Am Something After She’s back massage in a sweater sans animal. The second sentence wears itself. I step in blinks. I breathe so windows. Laundry […]