
Vol. 1, Issue 2
“And that is how I’ve survived: / how the hole / I carefully tended / in the garden / of my heart / grew a heart / to fill it.”
“Desire,” Alice Walker


“Nevermore” & “The Bar Is a Church” | Poetry
Nevermore (on Autumn) The deep, forested scent Of Autumn with her rich eyes – Pits of red dirt freshly dampened By an evening rain – Fills the room like the dancing smoke Of incense whisping in a rain-touched breeze Quiet like mist Transforming to frost...