Barbara Daniels

I blame chance, that reprobate,
for my slide and spin and slow-motion
carom across both lanes.

The Fig Tree

Nina Israel Zucker

The fig tree has fallen in love with the place in the yard
that separates neighbor from neighbor. I didn’t ask permission


Gabriel Shanks

find a recipe, one that calls for
flour, salt, wounds, and
tiny daggers.

(catalog of nightmares)

Rachel Eodice

asphyxiation; aliens, from mars of course; black cats, the
bad luck kind; drowning, amidst those who drowned before
me & the muck that is decay;