Black Spots, by Gavin Duncan
What does it mean to be alive?
Three Poems, by Cameron Morse
I draw in / close enough to hear the crackle / of snowmelt. Ice unclenches its fist.
Song of Polymers, by Paul Cunningham
How to talk about a copper sky?
Texas Dirt, by Lawrence Wilson
The car seemed cool until / You didn’t want to be seen in it
Two Poems, by Lauren Scharhag
I understand this, how all artists / are essentially magpies at heart, / gathering shiny things and squirreling them away
Tundra, by FJP Langheim
Here at night / I sleep with you / inside ice houses