Poetry
Somewhere in Nigeria
by AbdulBasit Oluwanishola in Issue Seventeen, September 2024
Somewhere in Nigeria: in Lokoja, Lagos,
Somewhere in Abia, Adamawa, Anambra,
some houses have become dams.
People have become Hagfish.
Roads have turned to rivers.
Cyborgs are yet to learn how to
become fish & swim. Somewhere
in Kwara, water has –once again–
blew another bright flame of
some fam...
Meat, Bone, and Soul
by Beth Cato in Issue Seventeen, September 2024
no
I will not
be your princess
no matter how you layer me
in silks and pearls
no matter the finery of your tailors
these gowns will never fit
this strange body that binds my soul
by dark magic and obstinance
you've skinned me of scales
split my tail into legs
reminded me repeatedly
that because of y...
Epitaph of a World on Fire: An Abecedarian
by Jessica Peter in Issue Seventeen, September 2024
And if you remember just one thing,
Babe, remember this: there once were
Corals here. Living things in vibrant hues beneath our waters, not these
Dead husks fully slaughtered by the will of
Ego-driven billionaires chasing profit over people,
Fame over freedom to breathe, a
Globe on fire over bas...
Category 4
by West Ambrose in Issue Seventeen, September 2024
It’s alright, I confess. The frosted echoes bluegold
melts
stained-glass
back into velvet opera chairs. This vicious nature
wakes us up inside,
tells us we’re alive,
forces us to not look away–
gasps, lunges, howls honey'd as ocean’s breath on the moors
at night. Him and I will survive
because we’l... Continue →
Black Bile
by Chinedu Gospel in Issue Seventeen, September 2024
the women |
they raise their voices the way
fire raises smoke & the rain answers
with a flood
the first rule |
the first rule is to stay
afloat until you become something like
a boat but
the men |
they ran
& the water gave them new homes &
new gods & new languages etched on
their tongues & a ...
You must wear your rue with a difference
by Marisca Pichette in Issue Sixteen, July 2024
she makes a pond
in petals pluck’d (forget-me-)
planted in the upturn’d dirt
of graves.
her arms all dark,
disinterred bone dust (dancing girls)
her lungs weigh’d down
with growing things.
she donates her breath to butterflies
& in her throat she bears (swaddled)
chrysalises fit to burst
in colors ...
Ever Noir
by Mari Ness in Issue Sixteen, July 2024
They slink in, hats drawn
low against their faces.
I hear
you find things out. I hear
you're willing to do things
for cold hard cash. I hear
you know something of poisons.
Of death.
You got cash?
Sometimes they spill a golden coin or two,
or seven tarnished silver coins. Or a shirt
woven ...
Biophos
by Eva Papasoulioti in Issue Sixteen, July 2024
We mooned our heart in orbit,
illuminated our paths with orchids
blooming in the dark, fertilized
with the fate of our star. If the sun
were the source of all life, our moon is
its soul, a new world curled around the old,
words of protection, a silver shine
of direction.
We tided our breath ...
Continue →Apiary
by H.B. Asari in Issue Sixteen, July 2024
We start first with the honeycombs
as babies, slipping whole past
our gummy mouths and tiny throats.
The sepsis is our insides preparing us
for the life ahead.
When our tiny bodies spasm & still,
we are weaned on ichor & ambrosia.
Six drops on our swollen tongues,
so we teeter always on the ...
the rage of the old river
by Sofia Ezdina in Issue Fifteen, May 2024
She uncovered her voice from her bed,
loaded the verbs,
stirred up the interjections’ beehive;
she gathered the air in her lungs
she called —
with the cold howl of the subways,
with the hum of hunchbacked streets.
and it came. From the seaside.
Demolished walls and towers,
temples and mall ...