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Poetry

Bat House

By Elise Paschen

Fall 2016


Turn out the light and I’ll explain. 
—James Fenton

It’s where I’m heading
It’s what I overheard
The lines in the corner
The flaming word.

It’s what you expected
Your greatest fear
A chip in the teacup
Bills from last year.

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The Elevated

By Elise Paschen

Fall 2016

Train on the rails
Moon buttonholes the sky
The sorrow, the sails
Your hand, my thigh.

Moon buttonholes the sky
Lines trail airplanes
Your hand, my thigh
Doors close again.

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XII.10

By Martial, Translated by Tyler Goldman

Fall 2016

Africanus has a million bucks, 
and still he wants and wants and wants. 

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III.52

By Martial, Translated by Tyler Goldman

Fall 2016

You bought yourself a low-cost house
  for only forty thou’.
Then lost it in a city fire;
  they burn so often now.

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Look, the Human Is Shrinking

By Kaveh Akbar

Fall 2016

It’s normal to do it alone, the feint-and-jab
           of forgetting. I believe in only what I can recite 

from memory, like the ninety-nine names
           for thirst: soft-hell, root-torn-from-soil, rain-

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Against Vanity

By Kaveh Akbar

Fall 2016

Away from the cruel magnification
            of a shaving mirror, I clean up well.
I am content with orange teeth and salty
            skin, with having borrowed my beauty 

            from the ocean. See my kelpy eyes, the pearl
on my tongue? Flatter me, flatterer! I still care 
            about dignity, like a blindfolded duke
being led to the gallows. It’s hard not to smile 

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overcome

By Beth Bachmann

Fall 2016

 

the bloodshot eye cannot swallow any more red sunset rose after sunset rose in the mouth of the field godless

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