Thus mathematics may be defined as the subject in which we never know what we are […]
Poetry
Green landscape. The smell of grass and petrichor. Bob Dylan sings Knockin’ on Heaven’s Door. Well, […]
Welcome to Fascism by B.B.P. Hosmillo
i got an alma knack for mictlanian winters guzzled pyramids on black ice for lord pemex […]
crude itayyy by Edwin Alanis García
I cannot fault the man who says when we die we go cosmic but I think he […]
The Light, The Blue by Gina Keicher
A sheet of ice across the barnyard. The path near the shed: veer left, by the […]
Homestead by Rob McLennan
Today you can’t remember anyone you ever were. If as Seneca says the past alone is […]
The Morning After the War by John Blair
on a big secret On the third day of creation eyes Once before […]
I AM LETTING YOU IN by Kathy Evans
http://www.tupeloquarterly.com/wp-content/uploads/2017/01/Rabbit-shows-up-again-in-flames-this-morning.pdf Andrea Read’s poems have appeared in The Painted Bride Quarterly, 3rd Bed, and most […]
FOX WANTS DEATH, RABBIT WANTS FLAMES OF THREAD by Andrea ...
i. the midwife here is that distant moon here are its scaly scabs it has been […]
pictures I took from space by Carrie Nassif
http://www.tupeloquarterly.com/wp-content/uploads/2017/01/the-brain-blown-wide-a-nest-of-nightingales.pdf Elizabeth Forsythe lives and writes in Chicago, IL, where she recently earned her MFA in […]
the brain blown wide by Elizabeth Forsythe
The frisson that comes from being drawn further & further out of yourself. The fear of […]
There Is a Wilderness, There Will Always Be by Erin ...
http://www.tupeloquarterly.com/wp-content/uploads/2017/01/archaic-fragment.pdf Elizabeth Forsythe lives and writes in Chicago, IL, where she recently earned her MFA in […]