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..:: CONTENTS ::..
   Volume V, Issue I

..:: POETRY ::..

..:: PROSE ::..
..:: OTHER ::..

..:: ETC ::..
   Contributor's Notes

..:: ARCHIVES ::..
   Volume I, Issue I
   Volume I, Issue II
   Volume II, Issue I
   Volume II, Issue II
   Volume III, Issue I
   Volume III, Issue II
   Volume IV, Issue I
   Volume IV, Issue II


from Taut
Sarah Trott


the heat sticks everything
into the spaces between

how their hands feel after eating


hands move from one body to another
they reach for one another across the short distance
they grab each others' arms
and pull objects from the floor

they lost their mothers but seem
to forget in the white morning light

how they toss their hair across the too small space
lament a sticky spot on the table


we can grow a tomato and broccoli from this ground
we remember that originally they tasted whole

every first Wednesday, we close the windows when the alarm sounds.  we shelter in place and then we keep reading


a slip down the steep bank into the creek


her face is turned toward the door the lines
of the profile are sharp and delineate
inside outside like the door does

open closed warm cold stillness wind


this face is a fan all splayed and open
gapped and reaching
the planes of it able to reach
across the widest space


they're holding a baby and the moon
glows a blue fist in the sky
and the dark is the sucking-in kind
pulling towards the center all those who walk or crawl

pulling all things in


she's holding her arm a blue bone stuck
firm along the length a blue bone
which is supposed to be inside
is outside and shaking with cold and fear


under their hands there are lines
their faces flat against glass or laminate
a brown eye a tooth over a lip
they're offering food in the palms of their hands

we talk about hope and food all week


she's looking with her eyes up like it's pretty
to be looking younger
skirted and necklaced and looking up
her hands very small and flexed in dance


they're sitting in a space in a way that is tight and close
they're sitting near a wall and it presses them
into each other and into the gold light from a window
from the setting sun from the sky above their wall

a beam of this gold light sparkles
into their eyes and they get caught
in each others' arms
their legs difficult to delineate


she moved around the room by touching the air with her fingers.  she knew when she was near the edge.  she touched her eyebrows and they were rough.  she touched her knuckles
and her hip bones and they were there, underneath

she moved into the way of the chair with her arm.  it resonated and clung


one shoulder is higher than the other

a hand places itself on a knee the knee is made of corduroy
and generous, a shirt feels like skin and is warmed by skin as well


they are full with fear


because I'm a part of this now

this space is oblong but taut
I move around in here trying
not to touch anyone or the edges


his face is a fat pan toward the window
the light shines through the bones the thin skin of the ear
the light is golden now shining through his ear


the air is of all things combined: concrete chemicals helicopters

in this space we always watch for mistakes
listen for errors


her bones in a jar
these fibers in mud

a journal entry is to be read for clues


the air is filled and full
now bursting with it, a light

a door opens onto us the light shines
and fear is a tight handshake, a white tooth


they mean to be the best they try
to be just like each other and the best
at the same time


what is the opposite of this
what is unlike this

my sore eyes maybe
her aching legs


there are three girls with the same long face
one pretends to be someone else even

not a part of it, but the face gives her away

others gladly pretend to be multiples


//   Advance   //