Fall 2016

The Flag Series: Fingers tracing Places of Aspiration

Sukenya Best

My work often involves the human figure, body pressure, and audience participation. It is propelled by a love for color and movement. These elements are an autobiographical link to my family’s history in the Caribbean Islands, New York City, and Central Virginia.

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Two Poems by Dorinda Wegener

Dorinda Wegener

If Your Family Owned a Mausoleum, then This Poem Would Make More Sense

 

Your sisters have found corpses: beautiful
one in the bath, the other hell
bent on their driving wheel, you say
your corpse has not yet been
behind cabinet door, scythed between
the smooth S-folds of faucet pipes under
sink nor face down, undercurrent, bumping bloated
limbs underbrush in bog water.

Your body has been undertaking the weight
of preposition and place, you …

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Three Poems by Michelle Lewis

Michelle Lewis

Animul/Flame

 

Animul owned the sun that beat
the back of the gavel-nosed deer.

Around us, sweetbread mountains with
their anatomical stone stone stone.

I was Flame, a fig wasp hunched in her own
sky. Sunrise tasted of red gums and spittle.

I stood at the bars of night, kneed
the floor, thought that would dismantle it.

Some nights I’ll half awake as if still
sleeping in that bloom and wither bed.

 

 

Instructions

 

You buried something beneath this …

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Rat’s Nest

Monica Rico

My mother said, my hair was like a rat’s nest, a rat’s nest
plucked by a black capped chickadee for another nest or the start of
the tiniest scarf because on occasion my hair is too much like leaves it sticks
to every one, every sweater I hug, sometimes it even smells pretty like
leaves deciding it rather be a whole tree that wants to grow
like fog by the …

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