this doesn’t feel like life yet.
it was part salvation, part hangover
Poetry is open again for submissions! Check out our guidelines and fire away–we look forward to reading your work!
To cut thru things around us—this gentle
surgery always at hand, incited by scent or red
scarf or blue rough hand towel
forests are a series of iterations / with slight variation / casting shadows on / what they have already said
Finally pleasure was there / Hidden among the shadows of tall buildings
For George Floyd, Age 46 Don’t loot. Don’t shoot. Don’t sit. Don’t stand. Don’t look. Don’t touch. Don’t speak. Don’t ride. Don’t march. Don’t shout. Don’t kneel. Don’t vote. Don’t […]
Michael T. Smith is an Assistant Professor of English who teaches both writing and film courses. He has published over 150 pieces (poetry and prose) in over 80 different journals. […]
But we forget to notice our own undoing and clench onto the hope that we are, all of us, looking
the light calls your name / do you hear the sweetness