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.…

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…

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…

photo of hammerhead sharks

Two Poems by Chloe N. Clark

Cephalofoil The eye doctor gives me a look of concern, he asks “do you drive?” and I say no, have never and he says “well, that’s good. You have barely any peripheral vision. Have you ever noticed that?” Have I ever noticed the things I don’t notice? I shake my head, though maybe it explains…

photo of red rotary phone

Two Poems by Donald Paris

(Please rotate your handheld device to landscape mode to provide maximum width for each line.) A Phone Call to my Father I found your number while at work today. Thought about calling you and how the conversation would go. I suppose, I would try to distract us both from the silence echoing in the phone.…

photo of lipstick tubes

Two Poems by Hannah Cohen

Death of the Ladies’ Man You were in the business of hurting others the most. Blister stains in pointed shoes, a moon of pink around the shower drain. You knew a woman in so many languages. And I am married to my gray hairs. And you were married to strings. Her lipstick singes desperate. Your…

photo of cows in shed

How to Make Wisconsin by Kirk Hathaway

(Please rotate your handheld device to landscape mode to provide maximum width for each line.) You begin with cows. If you don’t have cows you don’t have Wisconsin, only a shaved Michigan. Then, you must have immigrants, lots and lots of immigrants, mostly pale from being so long in snow and supper clubs, from all…

photo of old baseball cards

After School is Out by Andrew Szilvasy

(Please rotate your handheld device to landscape mode to provide maximum width for each line.) and the run through the pink clouds has ended, he skulks up the stairs and crosses the threshold into the dark living room. Sweat runs down his nose and falls onto the amaranth tiles designed to camouflage the mud and…

photo of mold

to decay by Sam Stebbins

(Please rotate your handheld device to landscape mode to provide maximum width for each line.) I’ve spent the past few weeks watching mold grow on stewed tomatoes, mourning their sweetness, the possibility of feeling the catch of the teeth of a serrated knife as I slice through them. I’ve been thinking about the serrated knife,…