Everything, Issue 46, Poetry

Cello Concerto in B Minor, Op. 104

            After Antonín Dvořák Mvt. I: Allegro in / the belly / of / the woods / we toss kindling into a pit // jagged geometry /of combustion // strike matches on our skin //watch the campfire work / its teeth through mountain blackness // & I am incendiary // north windlurching / in from / upper / […]

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Everything, Issue 46, Poetry

LAY ME ON THE TABLE + PUT FLOWERS IN MY MOUTH

                      a hue of hospital neon                       sits above exposed cotton guts                                  of waiting room sofa in the early hours of my procession, morning orange draws a halo            around my pale head.  there’s a field in the midwest where be a man still echoes            off the corners of tick-painted weeds resting atop a cliff overlooking a shallow marsh.  it is too late to go back,                                  one of the […]

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Everything, Issue 46, Poetry

Feral

                                                     after Anne Sexton’s “Yellow” When I finally feel safety again I’ll work it around in my mouthuntil it’s all balled up, I’ll spit it out, I’ll bury it shallow in a loamy field. I’ll plant a shield of sunflowers around it, I’ll encircle them with apricotpits, I’ll pluck every downy feather in sight, I’ll write a poem called Feral […]

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Everything, issue 45, Poetry

(((A Reminder))) by Erin Kirsh

Erin Kirsh is queer, Jewish writer and performer living in Vancouver. A Pushcart Prize nominee, her work has been published in The Malahat Review, EVENT, Cosmonauts Avenue, Geist, and The Molotov Cocktail, where she won their Shadow Award for poetry. Visit her at www.erinkirsh.com.

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Everything, issue 45, Poetry

Think: Honey I Shrunk the Kids, but Sexy by Schuyler Peck

IMAGINE I’M SMALL. IMAGINE I’M SO SMALLYOU COULD POP ME IN YOUR MOUTH & I’D SLEEP UNDER YOUR TONGUE. THINK A CROSS BETWEEN TIC-TACS AND HONEY I SHRUNK THE KIDS, BUT SEXY. TOGETHER WE’D TALK ABOUT YOUR DAY, ABOUT THE WEATHER. WE’D DREAM OF CAMPFIRES, WHETHER BAGEL BITES ARE REALLY AS GOOD AS WE REMEMBER. IN THIS STORY, I’M SMALL BECAUSE […]

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Everything, issue 45, Poetry

Crossing the US-MX International Border by Luisana Cortez

 everyday we cross     over green water  each step slow and            heavy with stirring  traffic is both ha —    lting and out of breath, here  a suspension nest —    led in the light and  still touching concrete    this walk on the early  hall, each socketed —    morning on our eye —  lids gauze light begins    stubborn opening its  face bit by bit wait […]

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Everything, issue 44, Poetry

LETTERS FROM THE KITCHEN PANTRY by VIVIEN SONG

I renounce rice when I am nine, the way one          might renounce Barbie dolls, or multiplicationsheets, or vocabulary quizzes—unpretentious,          without pomp. Baba continues to serve me braised pork belly and tomatoes with egg, eyes soft like          steamed gingered fish, never once picking at thehaggard bones of autumn: how I unearthed dead          silkworms from the garden, or how I would […]

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Everything, issue 44, Poetry

HORNET JUMPS HIGHER by DAN MCKEON

should i learn pythonshould i buy a praying mantis should i start wearing pendants am i a pendant idiot now am i getting the hang of it or being annoying? is it a nail or a needle in my eye andshould i trap the little ghostliving in the weird room in the basement we never go in or talk […]

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Everything, issue 44, Poetry

UNREMEMBERING by KAVI KSHIRAJ

you slip out the open door of my spine. when i pass you in dim-lit hallways, my fingers brush your wrists, lingering, unbodied. i dream of you – perched in air, eyes strange and diya-limned. my throat is still cupped between your hands.  i do not take it back. i dream of girlhood: unhesitant, unblinking. saying, relentlessly.  – i […]

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Everything, Issue 43, Poetry

IN A MOMENT CLOSE TO NOW by E. KRISTIN ANDERSON

after Neko Case When I find the morning I pull it from the groundand whisper an invocation. Across these counties, I’ve left myself motherless, let myself bear the name emergency when I kick up dust. The name ghost when I’m out of breath. But even in this apocalypse every constellation bears your name. And in […]

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Everything, Issue 43, Poetry

BY PROXIMITY by DEON ROBINSON

I would like to believe we live forever, and when I say forever,I mean we live longer than our favorite song.Don’t let anyone tell you forever has to feel so guilty, so strained, a cauterized theory of letting go.I haven’t the language to hope you get home safely,but I have the muscle memory of holding […]

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Everything, Issue 43, Poetry

AFTER IMAGES by EUNICE KIM

split my lip for the innocence i knowlies beneath: i think i almost drownedthis summer & the swimming pool wherei tried is on fire now. this body feelsstrange & hollow, halfway between anexhale & something else. i want sunsets.i want rooftops. i want to be uninhabitable,light falling through an open window. need to be something […]

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Everything, Issue 42, Poetry

COUNT THE MOONS by JASMINE LEDESMA

So we rent a car & drive to the wild of Pennsylvania. Crops tall as biblical women, their heads flinching. Nobody lives here, it seems. Houses but they’re empty, lights but they’re off. We float to our hotel room & polaroid in the mirror. Swimming pool midnight, chlorine-safe. I couldn’t drown if I tried. We […]

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Everything, Issue 42, Poetry

FINELY WOVEN by BRITTANY ADAMES

The taste is ritualistic: Peeling off your jacket. Cradling white-fleshed language  like distilled liquor parting father’s cracked lips. Sinking a tooth into grime and hoping to consume what pain has not taken from you. Two fingers jabbed in the jam jar — Maybe I will make a home out of this, you say. You cast […]

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Everything, Issue 42, Poetry

SUMMER LIKE A GIRL by MYCAH MILLER

After Olivia Gatwood I want to feel summer again like a girl like she is standing right next to me breathing hot breath into my ear she whispers like car rides and smells like sweat and is never still, still anything like when I was fourteen and rode my red bicycle to the ocean every […]

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Everything, Issue 42, Poetry

FOR D. by QUINN LUI

chicory grows by the roadside, their soft-blunted petals shading blue to purple in mimicry of dawn. i don’t think we ever talked through a sunrise. we came close, maybe, but mostly i remember easing the back door open to stand ankle-deep in melting snow. i remember looking up at wispy pinpricks of starlight, wondering if […]

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Everything, Issue 42, Poetry

FRICTION by LAUREN GILMORE

You tell me how, in his Nobel prize speech, William Faulkner said the only thing worth writing is the human heart in conflict with itself. We are underneath the first tree to jump the gun on Autumn. Holding back October like a yawn, we stay in the park until dusk starts apologizing for the day, […]

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Issue 42, Poetry, Translation

BIJAN ELAHI translated by REBECCA RUTH GOULD and KAYVAN TAHMASEBIAN

اما که اما که دید سال– با چند بنفشه به دنیا آمد ؟کی که تشنگی. شیرین بود  : دورم از یاد نمی‌داری – به هدر رفته جوانیمپوستی شگرف – اما ! چسبیده به تو ، جوانی دیگر این‌جا که بسنده بود . چند بنفشه به پوشاندن دهانه چاه And Who? And who saw the yearwas […]

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Everything, Issue 41, Poetry

TAIPING by ANA CHEN

cockroach: viscera stew, eyes puddling in the milk your baby cousin vomited yesterday. by sunrise the survivors will scuttle away from the wallowing zongzi, rice gummed golden to your tongue, soybeans kissing the melted flesh of chickens your popo killed herself, hands over hinged neck. your throat curdling as the feathers tattoo the freckled refrigerator; […]

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Everything, Issue 41, Poetry

ON THE BUS by BETH BARKER

You long for the sea but the city calls you, drunk at 7am. You kiss a girl with a monarch mouth, lips lilac, wings a soft letter. You feel glaring lights on skin, dizzy-tired, wishing hard for the sunset. You watch the towers, tuxedo-taped, choking on their Paco Rabanne. You listen to rain gulping pavements […]

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Everything, Issue 41, Poetry

BOYS DON’T CRY by MASON PIERCE

daughter, sister, & friend. A boy. fragmented. Creation of Adam, dropped. A fresco shatter some kind of Picasso. Where there was man there is blank space, turned inward. Nebraskan trailer, I don’t belong here. My mother calls me by a different name, speaking suddenly let’s go see the doctor dear. Tom & John are swell […]

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Everything, Issue 41, Poetry

SMALL SONG FOR THE ROAD by JACOB HAMMER

Sometimes I want to tell this city it’s blinded lights faltering bus lines and shining cars right where it can shove it shove off the concrete back to the lakes the creeks even the swamps I grew through Back to the benches and tools rusted at all but the edges To kiss them with my […]

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Everything, Issue 41, Poetry

HERE by DANI SMOTRICH-BARR

I don’t understandmuch of what youare saying anymorebut I can senseits somehowmore importantthan what you said yesterdayalthough its justmurky somethingsbrushstrokes buried in sand    It’s likethe waywe usedto listento Amy Winehousestoned on theroof in the suncaring less about lyricsthan the motions of her voicecrackling out fromstaticky speakersonto exposed skin You keeptelling meto go backto the citybut I […]

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Everything, Issue 40, Poetry

SEVEN DAYS by ZARNAB TUFAIL

touch that motherly tender love, with your five fingers and giggle out a laugh that will last. a lifetime. save your sister a piece of happiness, do not be greedy. the water is yet to boil and the hands are still open. catch all your dreams before the night shines. tell your father you wished […]

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Everything, Issue 40, Poetry

NECK TATTOOS by MARISSA ROSE

The color of blueberry syrup, stain-lines bleeding through a lifetime of August sunburns: they are angel wings, names of the once-beloved, crosses rising like lighthouses above collarless shirts. In this neighborhood south of the river, they are stories no one asks to hear, painted dot-to-dot with needles, told anyway. When the line to the smoke […]

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Everything, Issue 40, Poetry

STRATUS by SEAN PATRICK MULROY

I don’t want to talk about last night.                                      his smooth hands thick and ugly                         how I loved them I said                                                 I went by your old room and I looked into the window like I always used to.                                 I remember every night we spent there all the clever ways that I convinced […]

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Everything, Issue 40, Poetry

AT THE BORDER by CHINUA EZENWA-OHAETO

your mouth wants to forget the breadth of this place, forget how you rolled into it & swallowed its lynching rains. for what place turns the things in it into ashes. what place burns into the skin & says you’re an embodiment & a reflection of things cracked & squashed. a boy once saw you […]

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Everything, Issue 40, Poetry

SANTA CRUZ FOREVER by CHESTINA CRAIG

I blame every Santa Cruz summer for every ounce of invincibility I’ve felt, if you can come out of the thaw still deer spry, if you can swallow the sun like those born here, you can do anything underwater & how many times should I have died but at 16 I didn’t believe in death […]

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Everything, Issue 40, Poetry

CATCH AND RELEASE by MICHAEL CHIN

When I was still a girl, the boys asked when I’d stop believing in magic. They might ask you one day, too and you’ll have your own words, your own beliefs, your own magic. So all I ask is that you not forget the fish that leapt clear out of the water, the bubble you […]

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Everything, Issue 40, Poetry

GLORIA IN EXCELSIS DYKE by LEVI CAIN

i. will god let me be a conduit going anywhere i can have you, into elysian fields where i do begin an eager pilgrimage to where your thighs have already started kissing, where i do place my ear to your stomach as a shell to the sea and know the deepest part of you to […]

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Everything, issue 39, Poetry

TAILSPIN by DARWIN PAPPAS-FERNANDES

a leaf caught between two fingers snatch back the words, unchosen, opting instead for some that won’t place my heart between your palms. I dandelion-wish the next phrase can transplant the muscle from where it’s lived so long on my bloodied sleeve, press it back into my chest where it belongs even though I know […]

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Everything, issue 39, Poetry

LETTER TO THE SKY by ALISON HICKS

Across our bowl deep as our atmosphere, you provide friction for those attempting re-entry. Clouds are garments you put on and discard. You layer them up and peel them off. When you fling them they scoop us up and hurl down on us. I saw your bare chest once on a late summer evening in […]

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Everything, issue 39, Poetry, Prose

HOLLOWING OUT by ANOUSHKA SUBBAIAH

it is a bright orange sunday and my fists are unripening and i am still contemplating that baby albino turtle born with a wide open heart – so tender and exposed, a small pulsing blackberry abandoned by his own shell. i try to cup his breaths like running water with my two inconsolable hands; each […]

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