 TRIGGER WARNINGS: death, decay, rot, bugs, anatomical allusions, eating, sickness, blood. inexorable obsessions with growth and decay... poetry by caitlin bergman-powell tender shoots pushing through the dark loamy soil understanding from palate to shoulder collarbone, neck, earlobe, lips soft like whispered prayers on barside curbs understanding from callous-rough fingertips drawing pale lines on tender skin a starmap on a freckled body, lovers constellations understanding from tongue to limb ankle, calf, knee, thigh secrets sibilant against trembling flesh * inexorable obsessions with growth and decay fragile and small birds wings in a nest made of leaves and fallen twigs the flies crawl in laving their eggs with spitum to grow new flesh.
...as if she is an endless void. poetry by dorothy lune Life's Affection She is packed in wool behind the walls of a crate sand weighing down the eyes yet no body— no real one life has kissed her quite insane she is sick— she is sick— she is sick-- life's affection left her a chilly child like a crystalized silver meat sack she drags herself to the kitchen table in the frosty morning & hope the breakfast falls into her mouth filling myself with bowls of starches as if she is an endless void. Dorothy Lune is a Yorta Yorta poet who has been writing poems for 4 years, born in Australia. Her work has appeared or is forthcoming in Aurora Journal, Alternate Route, Open Leaf Press, Ice Lolly review, and more. She started out writing songs, drawing, painting, and writing poems. She found poetry to be the type of writing and medium she loves most and has a debut chapbook entitled Heart Planetary coming out in April 2022. Dorothy can be found online @dorothylune. ...so great in hunger... poetry by jw summerisle  JW Summerisle is an artist & writer from the English East Midlands. Their poetry can be found in SAND & the Lily Poetry Review. Their art may be bought at jwsummerisle.etsy.com & they are often tweeting @jw_summerisle. but 'thaw' isn't always welcoming. photographs by allison renner
"The word 'thaw' suggests warmth. It's often accompanied by a cozy, comfortable feeling. But 'thaw' isn't always welcoming. Winter's end doesn't necessarily lead to growth and the beauty of Spring. Sometimes it just reveals what's always been."
...it still felt like one of the last gasps of winter. photographs by ruth crosthwaite
"Winter Jasper and Winter Topaz originated from a small stream in the woods of northeastern Connecticut, the photos taken within minutes of each other in mid-February 2020. It was cold enough that I could see my breath and my fingers would start going numb after a few minutes of taking pictures,but it still felt like one of the last gasps of winter. The cracks and gaps in the ice were proof of that, the rushing water underneath showing nature’s impatience in waiting for spring. I can never take enough pictures of ice -the sharp edges and the melted edges, the way it plays with light and shadow, the reflections and refractions. The vibrance of the color through these holes in the streams was entrancing,and I’m so glad I was able to do it some justice."
...my temper after rain. poetry by effy winter  * 
the branches rot, and the petals blossom... poetry by aanuoluwapo adesina THEY TOO SHALL INHALE THE ROT Life is a greater torture than death-- It flows through the vein of every stream, and animates the sadness of every heart. It midwifes needless anguish. These were the thoughts that invaded my mind, and pushed through the loamy part of my brain, As I watched the good and the honest die at the hands of the scorned and unjustly starved. The branches rot, and the petals blossom, but they too shall inhale the rot one day. To be free of those unwanted caresses, that injure their brittle lips.
the ice road starts to melt in march... poetry by richard ledue Trying to Leave -30 Nights Behind The ice road starts to melt in March, but always refreezes at night, reminding me of how love becomes frigid in bed, unnoticed for years. The ice road gets bumpy too, like a conversation about pulling blankets off each other that ends with separate quilts. The ice road is faster than waiting on summer nights (bright until 11 PM) for a ferry that breaks down enough to reassure us everything is going to be alright. Richard LeDue (he/him) currently lives in Norway House, Manitoba. He is a Best of the Net nominee. His first chapbook came out in 2020, and a second chapbook in 2021. As well, his third chapbook, The Kind of Noise Worth Writing Down, was released from Kelsay Books in late 2021. His first full length collection, “People More Famous Than Me,” was also released in early 2022 from Alien Buddha Press. Comments are closed.
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