Our 2018 issue will be released to kick off the Old Oak Festival on the Tusculum College campus on April 19 at 4 PM, in the Shulman Atrium. Winner of the 2018 poetry chapbook contest will be announced.
Sesquicentennial Alice A hundred and fifty years, and it’s hard to believe I’m no longer a girl, aged into bluebonnet dresses and spooned-up hair-dos. I have become a woman turned upside down in behind-the-scene featurettes, all Redbox demure, gazing with Victorian reticence into the CVS parking lot. How I got here, I never know, following
Gnosis I can’t give you everything I know, even if I wished nature held that kind of sway. Take for example the thousand heads I want to show you of grasshopper weeds, their tips like fragile, ﬂaming ﬂeece, bobbing one wave in the final pentecost of dusk. Go with me while I walk, each
God as Redbud The spring pink fog of simple ghosts like hosts of harmonizing choruses, their low strummed alto sostenuto revives and revives and revives along the highway, this stepping forward sprightly lithesome line nothing like bright dogwood sopranos, but a whispered tonal wayward zone, a wily tribe, their every twig singing with tremulous,
Annunciation You have to believe this gospel is man-made, the oil paint luminous as pain, the angel dressed in blood red. No woman would frame this sacred moment inside a gilded trap so garish and so public. No woman gestates willfully the glory of certain death. Here is sacrifice forced upon her, the rapturous