434 wires unlock the land double-decked suspension hot for incandescence a 14 lane corridor top exposed stiffening truss to come over
limbs sling across the chasm 100 million self propelled cells carbon hardening soft iron opens all 29 tolls bottom enclosed can’t afford
Alexandra Watson is a poet and fiction writer from Syracuse, New York. She serves as executive editor of Apogee Journal, a publication amplifying historically marginalized voices. She teaches writing at Barnard College in New York City.
Red draws their tiny eye, and every hummingbird / feeder you can buy blooms a plastic, stoic / ruby, effigy of flower, tadasana of red. Already / they have eaten me out of sugar, but forgetful today / I’ve left the sliding porch door wide, and on my couch /
a cheery wool blanket...
J.D. SCRIMGEOUR You’re floundering in flashes of light and dark, / so after a few minutes you scoot inside / because January’s cold, and ask your wife for help, / embarrassed you can’t do even this simple task. / She peers over her glasses, studies the tape, / then returns it unstuck, separated...
Before I was north and south of a new country / I was divided from I was a tactic I was / a slave-trading port / Before I was remade as Amerindian / I was sugar as the main crop / Before I was overworked and underfed / I was selected for immediate punishment