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...