THE DUCHESS OF DELIGHTS


Zan de Parry 
︎ OCT 21, 2021



I remember her telling me that the animals in the river
Wouldn't eat me because they didn't eat people
With tail lights

I remember her saying that she'd like to pick my lock
With her teeth
And rip the door off its hinges

She made me a pig mask but I threw it in the fire

I remember when she threw her crawfish at my face
And said that I wouldn't know what it was
And would never know


















Zan de Parry farms full-time in eastern Pennsylvania. He runs KEITH LLC PRESS with Matthew Hodges.



The Silent World


Lawrence Bridges
︎ OCT 13, 2021



It was strange at first,
to classify my old journals
as so much mind noise.
This allowed me to sweep away

old life kindly and live today
inside the same loud machine —
my mind — and see thought
as long sheets of random music

with an occasional poem of melody.
Not much of a story, this,
if you’re looking for relief
from your own noisy head

but a poem is a device
that teaches you how to write
no poem with no thought other than
the next one, which is your poem.





























Lawrence Bridges
' poetry has appeared in The New Yorker, Poetry, and The Tampa Review. He has published three volumes of poetry: Horses on Drums, Flip Days, and Brownwood with Red Hen Press.

Also by Lawrence: Description of Poetry


Freddie


Will Russo
︎ OCT 12, 2021



Sweet skinny boy
really put on
a show. Out of
Zanzibar, theatrics
took him steady
west—never could stop
his fleeing. Fluent,
flaunting hairless
shoulders, skintight
denim and torso, he
coaxed the tenor
of a virile genre—huge
jaw and extra teeth
open to a sky of
octaves. Frame a thin
sail. Boy could really
move those hips. Freddie—
all moustache and
fortune—you never sang
of men. How many
queens denied your
throat, your flung
voice? Whatever you
were, you weren’t
just a fag, a shaking
vibrato, a ricochet
harmonizing solely
with itself—and now I know
                         and now I know
                         and now I know
                         and now I know that you can hear me





































Will Russo
is a Chicago-based poet whose work has appeared or is forthcoming in Watershed Review, Salamander, Berkeley Poetry Review, and elsewhere. Russo received a 2019 Pushcart Prize nomination and serves as Poetry Editor for Great Lakes Review.



Out


Talina Meinheit
︎ OCT 5, 2021



out

carefully          swept          his          cells
from                  floorboards
ridding                                    traces
of      
time                  together
knocked                                               dustpan
again and       again and again     and again
on the              edge of                      the bin
certain   
all of                   him                              made it

                 in















Talina Meinheit grew up on a farm in Lyon County, Iowa. She currently lives and writes in Minneapolis. 



With Life


Uche Nduka
︎ SEPT 30, 2021



So twisted
but resting is not
                            always the key

chocolate bunnies, predawn

grapes that all
                        would gravitate towards

on a parachute
                            over arboreal temples

bamboo fragrance
                                  your tresses
                                                      your lips

deep ink in the sky
                                of who I cook for

have you fallen
                                in love
                                              with life yet

the rhinestone becomes
a mission

having a wonderful time
with the starter button
































Uche Nduka
—poet and essayist—is the author of twelve volumes of poems, including LIVING IN PUBLIC (2018) and FACING YOU (2020). His writing has been translated into German, Italian, Finnish, Arabic, Romanian, and Dutch. He presently teaches at CUNY and lives in New York City.

Also by Uche: A Pacific Patience, To Clocks

Read (and touch and hold) his work in Issue 1. Pre-order it here.