Jynne Martin

‘The hunter pushes a bullet beneath his tongue to fix his aim, / or is it to stave off his thirst?

Michael Dickman

‘A cloudless sky and I’m back / an ice-cold sky-blue rag / for my eyes’

Ángel González Muñiz

‘The cockroaches in my house complain because I read at night’.

Carl Phillips

‘I can almost see again: we’ll drown anyway’

Issue 100

Oliver Reynolds

‘A room at the top of the street / preserving his life in sunlight’

Issue 125

Ange Mlinko

‘I think of this when raising my eyes / to a filigreed cross in a sanctuary‘’

Ellen Rachlin

‘Theory cannot be tangible fact / like driving on I-95 to get to a lecture / on supernovae.’

Rodney Koeneke

‘Lover, does it matter / how the river spends its glitter’

Issue 126

Laura Kasischke

‘But here we are again, you and I, the / two of us, tangled / up and biological.’

Issue 2

Peter Robinson

‘I swelter in the dusk / and chase the flies, abstractedly, / until I half forget them.’

Sadaf Halai

‘Of the 36 views of Fuji, this one is the strangest: / the great wave off Kanagawa, frozen and tempestuous, / both sound and silence.’

Kaddy Benyon

‘Sometimes I am so afraid my envy / will hack at your figs, strawberries, / or full-bellied beans, I dig my fists / into my pockets and nip myself.’

Hoa Nguyen

‘I wrote ‘valley’ when I meant ‘longing’ / Your laugh a river A trout kind of green.’

Issue 112

Daniyal Mueenuddin