photo of baby adulting an adult's fingers

Father-Daughter Hands by Todd Dillard

Strangers on the street tell me I am having a baby girl. They do this even when my wife and her swelling belly aren’t there to be deciphered, touched. They say it’s my hands, that if I was having a boy my fingers would curl, forming nascent fists ready to wield footballs, belts, a throat.…

photo of a black panther

Miracle Grow by elena felix

I dropped the fertilizer bag on my kitchen floor by accident. Little purple pellets fell everywhere. Some rolled, some bounced. I tried to pick them up. I chased them. I watched them dodging away from me. My cat, Uganda, played with one and her paws started to grow. She stepped on some more and in…

photo of incense sticks

Nag Champa by Chris Drabick

I didn’t believe that magic could work, not even a little, but I didn’t know what else to pursue. I’d run out of options, as they say. She didn’t want me back; that much was clear. What’s to be done when someone doesn’t want you around anymore? I’m not an idea man. I played hard…

Mother’s Day Issue

So, we took a bit of a detour at the barn gate and decided to try something new: compiling an issue (instead of individual posts, as per usual). It’s been awhile since the cows used InDesign, so this was no small feat. We appreciate all of the amazing women who submitted their poetry, but wanted to…

Grounded by Aparna Reddi

I held a balloon in one hand and reached for Sela’s with the other. Our fingers locked, my heart flew. I let helium seep from the balloon and sucked it in. My voice came out squeaky, unrecognizable, like it belonged to someone else. “I love you,” it said. Sela’s lips, puckered around her own balloon,…

black and white photo of wine glass with its reflection

Two Poems by Brian Robert Flynn

(Please rotate your handheld device to landscape mode to provide maximum width for each line.)  Long After My Body Dies, My Soul Runs Into Rainer Maria Rilke’s Soul in a Forest Ripe w/Greenery, a Stream Gurgling, Wildflowers, Two Luscious Sunbeams Penetrating the Tree Canopy, and As the present feeling of true love surges and floods…

embroidery depicting hands opening a condom wrapper

The Seeds of Things by Joe P. Squance

When the condom got stuck in the vending machine in the basement of his dorm and he grabbed one side and she grabbed the other—both of them just a little bit drunk, trying pointlessly to be quiet while getting ready to make a whole lot of noise, his body electrified with the prospect of imminent…