October 28, 2016
A poem from the Fall 2016 issue. 
 
What are the details I’ve left out? That I’m not
 
poor. That I’ve never had to buy food
at the Dollar Store at the end of the month.
 
That I’m relentlessly straightforward lately,
which has to do with my need to tell you
 
exactly what happened, because what happened
is so unclear.
December 31, 2014

A poem from the Winter 2013 issue.

Veronica is lovely. She wipes the dust from Christ’s face in the carving
beside Simon, though she is never mentioned in the Gospels.

October 27, 2016

A poem from the Fall 2016 issue.

I’ve seen enough of your creation, Lord,
its absurd conceits, the sins of idle men
ripened to gnashing teeth.
October 26, 2016

A poem from the Fall 2016 issue.

Kid comes to see me during office hours, and he says he has
a weekend job at a gas station, and one Saturday, two girls
from French class come by and ask him if he wants to go
October 25, 2016

A poem from the Fall 2016 issue. 

I stand before the little square history
of my cutting board: beet stain, parsley
mark, garlic in the grain that infuses

anything cut open, left soft-side down.
July 19, 2016

Poetry from the Summer 2016 issue. 

We are at the edge of the madness,
sitting and swelling warm under the skin.
So you think that shuffling and press
of bodies against the fence will end?
July 12, 2016

Contemporary fiction writers can play hard for the joke, as if writing to a laugh-track, but Joy Williams’s humor is darker, subtler, more in line with the humor of Faulkner or Isaac Babel: bracing, unsettling.

May 05, 2016

A poem from the Spring 2016 issue.

Two wasps copulate over your back porch—
their wings grate the air above the ochre splotch

where a hawk took down a pigeon last winter
not long after your move into the yellow house

April 14, 2016

A poem from our Spring 2016 issue. 

Home, I follow the roads passing the fruit orchards and the roaring white sheds of honey. The / clouds—always inclined to thunder. The rain travels west from the mountains.

April 07, 2016
A poem from the Spring 2016 issue, inspired by Richard Leo Johnson’s photographs.

The carpets, the paneling, the overstuffed recliner. Chainsaw carving
on the TV, kerosene lantern for thunderstorms, girl

lying on the carpet in her shorts, Converses, ankle socks. TV remote
within reach. Stained glass figures in the panes.