There are many ways to sleep…

There are many ways to sleep that are not restful.  There are lakes that are open or closed in different seasons as though by some kind of door. Tonight the eels migrate: they know where they are going: they have been there once before. They are like sound particles traveling outward from a single source, acquiring the behavior of the space they interact with, now returning less loudly back to the place they came from in order that they may be heard.  I turn the. . . Read more
Margaret Shultz
The Volcano

Every night, boats glide out from behind…

Every night, boats glide out from behind The island to keep an eye on the volcano And draw its luster out, through red eruptions, into the sailors’ eyes, and into the water which holds itself against the boat, against the island, and cools the stones intolerable to the skin. Lapilli falling steadily from far away Slowly rake the night-slide of ash to water. The water keeps time, as Tuna are trawled in in a net between two boats. Arm after arm, fishermen bring them to. . . Read more
Tobias Kirchwey
Warm Wool

When I was a boy, my mother showed my sister…

When I was a boy, my mother showed my sister how to milk the sheep. Once she’d fastened the ropes around the neck and feet, she stuck her cheek in the pelvic crook, digging her grayed black hair into the browned white wool. The smell was stale, warm and sweet. I ask you if nurturing is feminine, laughing you say yes. But you are very feminine. My head didn’t fit; my wrist on your hip— shower water drizzled from your lips like laughter. I dried. . . Read more
Jake Orbison
Missed Connections Poetry: New Haven Edition

The “missed connections” section of the New Haven Craigslist page—in free verse.

The Have Cave has always been a city of connection, since even before its Puritan times. People pair up here constantly—for the night, for a year, and, not infrequently, for their lives. It can happen in a freshman entryway or at Toad’s, and in Claire’s Corner Copia or on the Green. But these can also be, and often are, momentary couplings. The following poems are entries on the “missed connections” section of the New Haven Craigslist page from November, with added line breaks and titled. . . Read more
Cindy Ok

“You are not good at lying in wait…”

You are not good at lying in wait by slits in wooden hides or crawling on your stomach through moorland to peer over cliffs for a single, shimmering egg. The specialists, with their brimmed hats and new binoculars, their careful speech and mind for populations — “200, 000 off these cliffs, alone” – delight you: they talk of specimens and graphs, their print marches birdlike over lined pages. Still, in these open places, you always find yourself wandering off through common scurveygrass and kidneyvetch, past. . . Read more
Felicity Sheehy