Tracey Knapp’s first book of poems, Mouth, won the 42 Miles Press Poetry Award in 2014 and will be published in 2015. Her manuscript was also a finalist for the Four Way Books Intro Prize. She has received scholarships from the Tin House Writers’ Workshop and the Dorothy Sargent Rosenberg Poetry Fund. Her work has appeared in Best New Poets, Five Points, Red Wheelbarrow Review, The New […]
Cammisa Buerhaus is a sculptor and transmission artist who works between sound and performance. She is known for her sculptural instruments. Her work has recently been presented by Home Alone 2, The New Museum, MoMA PS1, Robert Rauschenberg Foundation, The Royal Ontario Museum, and Issue Project Room.
<< Read Part 1 << Read Part 2 << Read Part 3 I followed her out and around the corner. We stood fifty yards away under the shade of an alder. The man, if paler, could’ve passed as a statue. The cast his silhouette on the dirt pile in front of him. “How long has […]
“Our indiscretion sometimes serve us well, when our dear plots do pall…” – Hamlet, 5.2.7, Shakespeare. “The dawn has descended upon us,” said the Elder, “Let us hurry, or be hunted Let us conjecture, or be battered Let us herald, or be outwitted.” The little girl, inebriated in the beauty of the words, Is lost […]
<< Read Part 1 << Read Part 2 A knock startled me. I coughed and turned around. I coughed again when I saw that it was Diana Salvaggio. The Diana Salvaggio. The alive one, at least. Her hand was still in a fist against the doorframe. I gave a smile, which she reciprocated. I couldn’t […]
”Love is a shadow. How you lie and cry after it. Listen: these are its hooves: it has gone off, like a horse.” – Sylvia Plath Below the highway darkness turns the heath To ancient shapes, to where the wind trots on hooves, The mist acloak swirling, or further back To that with eyes and […]
<< Read Part 1 I stared at the closed door. There was a guy who wanted to kill himself with the means and motive outside. How did Frankie expect minimum wage me to keep an eye on him? I turned to look at him through the window. The man stood in front of a mound […]
