...Kelly Forsythe © 2011 Kelly Forsythe 2011 Kelly Forsythe Leaving Pittsburgh in June The petal burns. Pollen leaves a slant of gold, my wrist heats up with rash. It tore up my arm. When I left you brought flowers to the airport. I took all the...

..., however, is ultimately ambivalent because it depends on his position as an artist-critic; thus, rather than endorsing an alternative method, the essay, following Coetzee's imperative to “speak without authority,” simply leaves the question provocatively open. © 2011 Virginia Tech 2011 Works Cited...

... as the art of persuading people—at the levels of perception and sensibility as well as reason—that they are Earthlings. Her current project considers the possibility that a kind of materialism informs Walt Whitman’s Leaves of Grass . Bennett’s previous monographs include Unthinking Faith and...

...Jennie Lightweis-Goff Within days of the breach of the levees in New Orleans, a second man-made disaster—the “recovery” efforts—began to transform the city’s institutions, leaving many urban partisans afraid that New Orleans would be rebuilt along the model of other, more expensive, less habitable...

...Ellyn Lichvar © 2015 Ellyn Lichvar 2015 Ellyn Lichvar Epidural My legs feel like someone else’s. Touching my knee is like touching an island on a map. How am I supposed to know when he is leaving me? I am supposed to control it, I think, this...

...Helen Palmer © 2017 Helen Palmer 2017 Helen Palmer Break Separating the surfaces of the upturned pyramid are its glass walls. Waves are refracted as they enter and leave the prism. The atrium refracts the most, causing superior waves. Left atrium is...

...    leaving the mouth swung open for enthused wind. Dear tongue of incense. Of the dropped icicle,    its divot-shaped legacy across a bloom-red field turning like touched snow. minnesota review 88 (2017) DOI 10.1215/00265667-3786791  © 2017 Peter LaBerge...

.... Self-Portrait as a Chair in an Empty Poem. 3. Self-Portrait as a Chair in a Room in an Empty Poem (Left on a Chair in a Room, Alone in a Poem). 4. Why Hath You Left Me on a Chair, Poem? 5. Leave Me Alone, Charlotte Brontë. 6. I Never Loved Me, Either. 7. Ceci N’est Pas...

... emerges in one postcard only over time, like an eye softens to darkness. This is the barbeque we had last night my picture is to the left with a cross over it Your son Joe Southern trees bear strange fruit Blood on the leaves and blood at the root Though the day smoldered, he must have...

... boys’ game, It ends as most do, When one of us becomes a man As he leaves the other crying; A mark, or at least A dusty glow behind. ...

...Jaydn DeWald © 2013 Jaydn DeWald 2013 Jaydn DeWald Vigil after Radmila Lazić Spring belated, and I am much too old To see, in the black pool, our daughter Holding her naked doll. Fragile leaves In her unspooling hair. Algae-globbed —​ Her lidless eyes...

... confused light with the matted grasses and blackened leaves below the field of ice where I blow on cold coals in a pit of ash and bone. Let it come from the calcium veins branching under graveyards, be root-sucked into breathing green, feed, flower this brain to see...

... so rich, but now flat broke, dry, wanting, wishing for rain that never comes. And farmers longing to remember when the gnarled limbs of the front-yard trees didn’t poke accusing fingers at all the folks fixing to leave. minnesota review 77 (2011) DOI...

...Sarah Johnson © 2012 by Virginia Tech 2012 Sarah Johnson Barometric Weather comes, even to the city. Leaves are rocketing down the alley. My coffeecup holds out for rain, under a new leak. Filtered through packed insulation, the water’s tea-colored. If he comes now, so...

... that guy who went through hell et al. to retrieve his lover. OK. That’s another thing about being human: looking behind —​ but up until then he was doing pretty great. I did not ask you to leave. I am not asking you to come back. minnesota review 83 (2014) DOI...

... I think YOU’RE THE MOST COLLAPSING WALL. Your notes are the cuffs of your ankles. Your notes are secrets you keep really secret. Your belt sometimes hangs loose around your waist and when I taste you I taste the bag of leaves left too long in the refrigerator. I wilt with you until you...

... talk augmented reality; she lives it! Time to cheer up, quicken my inner Queen of Lemonade, leave old Norman Vincent Peale panting in my sniffly, sneezy dust, and renew that Robotics for Everyone subscription. Who knows? Maybe someday I could love a low-footprint cyberdog. minnesota review...

...Cody Ernst © 2016 Cody Ernst 2016 Cody Ernst If There Were a Song about This Car Ride it would start:  love didn’t exist yet  or:  love was but a child then, the winter I discovered self-destruction:  whiskey, stout beer, and cigar leaves muckied the atmosphere  I had a hopeless crush...

... coming down hard like sheets of rain. I am going to leave this white field and step into a coral- edged cumulus or anchor deep as an island. I will speak mist. I will wear shawls of thunder. All my edges will be in conversation with water and sky. I lift trees. I carry...

.... Their steps scuff the entry like quick rumors. I listen, then wake in the half light of early morning, still listening. They leave only a hint of who they were: a scent of sweat and saltwater, field rock and factory ash...