in the middle of this field you cannot dream
only sit and stare beyond the fence barely
a girl and barely from heaven
the sandpit swirls slow like
a mother’s arm checking the temperature
of a bath
but you were never a baby born
never waxed and threaded in the fit of a
women's clothes
the sun’s dry heat is a switch without leaves
(its flaying)
the only spoil you know
Ahja Fox can be found around Denver, Colorado reading at various events, cheering on her community, or co-hosting Art of Storytelling. She is an assistant poetry editor for Copper Nickel and Homology Lit and publishes in online and print journals like Five:2:One, LEVELER, Driftwood Press, Rigorous, Okay Donkey, The Perch (Yale), and more. She has also been included in the 2018 Punch Drunk Anthology, YANYR Anthology, and Reclaim:An Anthology of Women’s Poetry. Follow and contact Ahja on Instagram or Twitter at aefoxx.
by Sean Kilpatrick
fiction
... My friend, drumming his middle finger on the glass, was bred by far worse adversities. He tied fireworks to pets ...
by Tim Neil
poetry
... If you look to it for sympathy, it / looks back. / If you ask about grief, all it will / tell you is that grief is a grey gutter ...