The Burden of Southern History by W. Perry Epes
As if England and Nature were the same,
At Williamsburg we imitate by culling
Tricorn and lace—it’s Restoration Game!
And out we strut, colonialling,
Having to mincestep Revolution (strayed,
Were Fancy free...
Two Poems by Sally Toner
If John Waters Hung Out in Reston
He’d live in our townhouse, with the filthiest bathroom alive—
a rust hole in the sink so big it’ll leak
all over the...
At the Bar by Karen Valentine
Minute shards of glass
settle upon the bar counter
like finely milled powder
The barkeep smiles at no one in particular
as if born an automaton
No warmth offered as he brushes...
Train by Emily Goff
an angel fell
asleep on my shoulder last evening,
in the train car aswarm with humans who had tumbled in from the city,
some drunken with reddish marbles for eyes,
some...
Pergola by Serena Agusto-Cox
I never grew out of cookies
and milk
I grew in.
Someone reflective,
not out loud.
Even behind the smoke,
I saw wheels turn and wondered
where had you gone?
Perhaps it was to the...
