4.1

Forms In Between Poetry Fiction Creative Nonfiction Visual

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Isabel Balée

An Explanation of the Aftermath

1. didacting underwater — how microbes in a pile of ivy — a smokestack stopping blight after water — in its own breath — a woman — on sunday — in a steeple fell an organ — mosquitoes in the middle of an ending — a city in a body after water — a woman moving her body through the dry and blight — a city on sunday in a pile — a woman leaving — a woman at all — 2. at all a steeple — at all prayers in a god place — didacting in the wrong room woke up beginning the door ...

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Bayleigh Fraser

Thin

Really, my ship, the body, / came into the fire before / the pain of it made sense, / before the wood became // heavy with flame and flame / became mine. Really, the body / looked into the mirror, / saw the red ruddy eyes, char

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Jeff Encke

Iron Spider

Sometimes I wake in the middle of the night with a clot of belladonna / paste and baby teeth, a talking wound in my idiopathic breast.

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Jeff Encke

Mouth Pear

At the touch of a screw the fruit distends in the mouth an arduous barrier between cavity and functional capability the underlying palate soft    a defect of mastication We keep what is lost    the first impression in a child’s putty a denture overcoming the residual ridge of the face Only speech ends the condition of conjunction    the cast of sulci poses the weight of compromise      choice loads of bone made labial the fabrication of principles undercuts the restoration of twang The internal rules of aesthetics, the lean rubber of the educated heat but a simple technique to level and prepare for the thereafter Orientation grooves flush with next steps   the ...

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Shauna Barbosa

And I Know That She Feels Beautiful

We talked at length about her cervix and her decision to no longer perm her hair. A woman at the Cape Verdean salon in Roxbury told her you were more beautiful with long black hair. I told her they’re bitches even though they’re my people. I stared at her curly Sierra Leone sunset making my dead black strands cower. She said when she takes a bath she can feel where they’ve cut her cervix. We have a lot in common though I have not felt my own. Fingers move my unsettled hair around to hide the bald spots. She said ...

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Shauna Barbosa

33

I spent your birthday in Paris while I did not wish you well I danced sweat and cigarette smoke blisters still ruin(ed) a moving body, a foreign unaware unsettled put un before it all the weight of those black drums on a moving ship to Cape Verde all those American ‘goods’ in search of recovery. Continue to “And I Know That She Feels Beautiful” ...

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Shauna Barbosa

GPS

GPS says there’s a Duane Reade a mile from Chinatown. It’s 96 degrees on a Saturday. My chest is wet, my legs are wet. Sweat seeps my contact lenses. I’m coming for you. The taxi driver is West African. You are my sister. I’m changing in the back seat, my bra, my shirt, while he keeps his eyes on the Lincoln Tunnel and his thoughts on women being slaves to their men. I stare at his name and badge number and wonder what his wife in Africa looks like. I really wanted to know what his American woman looks like. ...

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Melody Owen

The Saint

The Saint, conceived. // As a newborn infant, The Saint is prepared to swallow the suffering of the world. // The Nightmare. // The Saint is encouraged by man to practice his powers. // The Saint hangs from a mountain while being pressed by man. // The Saint endures the nails. // The Battle. // The Saint, victorious, displays his powers. // Peace. // The Saint ascends.

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