The Saints of the Last DaysBy Aimée Baker
Pray that on this evenfall, bees will fly thick / from her mouth.
I From Absolute SolitudeBy Dulce María Loynaz, translated from the Spanish by James O'Connor
I believe they are many, and some are beautiful and deserve to live.
Charon’s ObolBy Madeleine Wattenberg
The truth is / I’d tongue the honey from most any hand / that granted me a crossing.
ArtBy Chris Martin
Everything is art / to be broken.
SutureBy Philip Schaefer
Every day a heart is pulled / out like a wet plum from one body / and placed inside another.
Sita Considers Her RebellionsBy Vandana Khanna
She has killed things / (though it is forbidden) with her hands
The Last BreathBy Ewa Lipska, translated from the Polish by Margret Grebowicz
This party has no history.
Whatever We Name, We ExceedBy Mary Kovaleski Byrnes
these things I try to name each day / were never mine to lose.
preservation tacticsBy Abi Pollokoff
Boundaries of Nature: an orange, plucked, a fester, a fist— / we eat dead things to stay alive
The World’s Oldest Cherry Tree Is Alive and Well but Barely Able to WalkBy Maya Janson
Boundaries of Nature: Underfoot, / the spring grass was an animal whose fur must never be cut.
my name is manBy Wiley Birkhofer
i have torn myself down / my breezy bad mind
Army SMART Book Section 1-8: “The origin of the hand salute is uncertain.”By Karen Skolfield
Prove you’re mammalian by twisting / your neck a mere 160 degrees, / 180 if you’re under 30.
Now I understand what maturity is. Thank you, Wool!By Kent Shaw
We had been asked to piece together the conspiracy using only wool.
WhiteBy Shayla Lawson
I do not / write about you for you / are not washed out.
Twelve Days of WeddingBy Taisia Kitaiskaia
Your beauty is catching, / all my antelopes are on fire & ruined.
I Go for a Walk in the Evening While the Body Stays at HomeBy Alix Anne Shaw
The body unbuckles the door latch / and stands behind the screen.
Doubts and a HesitationBy Garous Abdolmalekian, translated from the Persian by Ahmad Nadalizadeh and Idra Novey
Who has dislocated the world? / and why are birds circling in our stomachs?
Preface to a Twenty-Volume Regicide NoteBy Joshua Bennett
Give me the names // of the slain. Say each name / like benediction.
robot nurseBy Maggie May Ethridge
Boundaries of Taste: i love a good man / rebuilt after burnt to the ground
horror vacuiBy Beth Bachmann
Boundaries of Taste: stop & the Devil will push the Devil will be in me reborn
ArroyoBy Katy Lederer
bones—to signal / I am human—stay away
waiting roomBy YE Hui, translated from the Chinese by Dong LI
you carry a heavier and heavier bag / and always feel it belongs to someone else
PrescriptionBy Nina Puro
If gender, swim / parallel to shore.
The Self Forgives Little of ItselfBy Adam Clay
it’s as if the knuckle of tomorrow / has arrived today
exodon paradoxus (bucktooth tetra)By Dana Ranga, translated from the German by Monika Cassel
joypolice, even when there’s hunger and fear, we grab hold
The DoorBy Nomi Stone
Where are you Salma? Little ache / of sky.
Wide Action Is Not a WidthBy Amber Galeo
When women grew slender as church spires. I refused.
RootsBy Luis Muñoz, translated from the Spanish by Curtis Bauer
I envied them in silence / because they were starting something.
CarouselBy Gabrielle Bates
The foal in its wet white bag / isn’t dead yet. Cue the cheery organ music.
Carib Woman, 1818By Khalym Kari Burke-Thomas
I am burning in this life / and the next.