
As Rachel, As Sarah
I am leaving Lileahalong an empty farm road: ice-grabbeddairy grass, a devil smashed on the asphalt—the clean pipe of its femur hollowly becoming. Emptiness…
Read MoreI am leaving Lileahalong an empty farm road: ice-grabbeddairy grass, a devil smashed on the asphalt—the clean pipe of its femur hollowly becoming. Emptiness…
Read MoreUnnerving, the shell. Perhapsterrible, the broad, muscular foot, my legume of possibility, my knot of protein anchoredin a soup. Just a plain soup. I…
Read Moreyou pay and I uplift youyou live and I outlive youyou die and I defeat youin tombstones carving and carbon printingand nano-ink technology on…
Read MoreM. carried in three ceramic mallardswrapped in his jersey, their green facesrigid and unblinkingon the shelf of his arms. They were as significant as…
Read Moreafter Mindy Gill’s ‘A Kind of Paradise’ What I know about desire is horseswho aren’t hungry can’t be ownedby anyone. The horse, she bows…
Read MoreFallen cones, Lay abandoned at the base of the tree. I too lie underneath it, cocooned in blankets. Isolated, my edges sharp. The tree…
Read MoreRebecca Hawkes’ chapbook ‘Softcore coldsores’ was published in AUP New Poets 5 to reignite the series in 2019. She co-edits the journal Sweet Mammalian and is a founding member of…
Read MoreThe sky waits to be cleaved like a tongue against a railing. You scratch the paper walls, wings aching for warmth. Sirens slice through…
Read MoreWhen I was sick my mother would rub tiger balm on my belly and let me watch Audrey Hepburn in My Fair Lady I…
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