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The Body

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  • Poem

    poetry-magazineCrossing

    By Ross White
    I’m not the first man to lose his father
    slowly, not the first to wonder
    when I walk in the room if the…
  • Article

    Heroines of Nothing at All

    By Hannah Bonner

    In The Rose, Ariana Reines offers an alternative to feminism’s well-worn obsession with women’s empowerment. 

    A collage featuring fragments of feminine faces and parts of flowers, including roses.
  • Poem

    poetry-magazineBlindness

    By Brittany Cavallaro
    In that movie you profess to love, the villain’s tell
    is the blood wept from his bad eye.

    The trailhead…
  • Poem

    poetry-magazineGirl Blood Ritual Two

    By Amelia Loeffler
    You might be wondering how I got here:
    red handed, pants down, under the bleachers
    by the football field…
  • Poem

    poetry-magazine

    Is This My Last Ferry Trip?

    By Martha Silano
    Is this the last time I’ll admire the guys
    in their neon-yellow slickers, guiding us
    to our parking spots…
  • Poem

    poetry-magazineCarnivore

    By Rigoberto González
    I’m consuming myself,
      my doctor says, and I get
    the urge each time I lift
      a fork. How it rattles
    with…
  • Poem

    poetry-magazineIn the Surgical Ward

    By Carmen Calatayud
               my body at the water’s edge of opioid comfort
    under the brain’s night sky

               rounding the blue curve …
  • Poem

    poetry-magazine

    Self-Elegies 

    By Martha Silano
    Because why not? Why not take the smashed pinecone 
    of my life, render it in purple? Why not dream of…
  • Poem

    Icarus Does the Dishes

    It leaves a mark on me when I fall
    in my father's kitchen.
    Only a few days it's been
    of lifting him up …
  • Poem

    The Wild Old Wicked Man

    By William Butler Yeats
    'Because I am mad about women
    I am mad about the hills,'
    Said that wild old wicked man
    Who travels where God wills.
    'Not to die on the straw at home,
    Those hands to close the eyes,
    That is all I ask, my dear,
    From the old...
  • Poem

    The Circus Animals’ Desertion

    By William Butler Yeats
    I

    I sought a theme and sought for it in vain,
    I sought it daily for six weeks or so.
    Maybe at last being but a broken man
    I must be satisfied with my heart, although
    Winter and summer till old age began
    My circus animals...
  • Poem

    A Dialogue of Self and Soul

    By William Butler Yeats
    I

    My Soul. I summon to the winding ancient stair;
       Set all your mind upon the steep ascent,
       Upon the broken, crumbling battlement,
       Upon the breathless starlit air,
       Upon the star that marks the hidden pole;
       Fix every wandering thought upon
       That quarter where all thought is...
  • Poem

    poetry-magazineWart Remover

    By Jalynn Harris
    it never occurred to me,
                this virus on the pout
    of my thumb, multiplying as
                sheep scat; a cluster of…
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