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Poetry  – 

Gum

Austin Segrest

The gum she bought by the flat. Blue or green, mixed in her mouth with the brown chaw we found in its pouch in the drawer, it congealed— kneaded and jowled, wrung out as a fear, a grief,…

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•Adjusting to the Dark

Dusk. I sit on the porch of the cabin. Wool sweater. Scotch. Tomorrow it will snow. But for now—a clear…
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Hum

Abigail Beckel

A woman lived in a farmhouse alone, / her husband dead six months now. // She heard the house talking to her— / it sighed and creaked and hummed.

Poetry  – 

Grief

A ghost crab burrowed under my left shoulder blade. I didn’t see it coming, so faint in the twilight. Holding…