All posts by Natalie Wolf

Claire Bateman

Sweet World

Where I come from,
our currency is cakes,
each the precise
size, mass, and density
of the purchase,

so all of our vehicles
are permanently hitched
to refrigerated trailers
roomy enough for even
the Barcalounger cake,
the washer/dryer cakes,
the SUV cake,

though always there are
structural issues to consider—
foundation, scaffolding, support—
which is why culinary engineers
are universally revered,
as are, of course,
the hens, whose eggs
hold everything together.

Claire Bateman writes and creates visual art in her hideout in Greenville, SC.



Dagne Forrest


The most volatile of elements,
like love, is with us,

inconsistent, inconstant, insistent,

until in an instant
it isn’t.

Dagne Forrest is a Canadian who lives with several other humans, an athletic labrador retriever who suffers from separation anxiety, three cats, and a small flock of chickens.



Cyril Wong


The white and mushy
interior of a cockroach
shouldn’t be the stuff
of poetry about sex,
the end of innocence
or even death, yet here
we are wiping the milk
of its insides from my palm
across the wall of this verse.

Cyril Wong is a poet and fictionist in Singapore.



Ross Thompson

The Survivors Club


when I was dragged from the wreckage
of a four year stretch of grinding a furrow of ill health
and watching the world slip quietly
down the pea green tube that kept me afloat,

I woke to a world
that felt at once unspoken like an Indian summer
yet broken like the longest winter,

my heart now stamped
with the membership of an exclusive club
for those who have loved and lost
and lived to tell the tale,

and who now share knowing glances,
barely perceptible head nods
and compassionate smiles:

a coded language that goes unnoticed
by those
yet to feel the sharp sting of grief.

Ross Thompson is a Northern Irish writer, avid video gamer and Lego fanatic who oscillates wildly between taciturn and verbose.



Howie Good

In the Dark

My thesaurus lists some 140 words
related to darkness, including black,
blackness, pitch black, night, nightfall,
nighttime, umbra, penumbra, umbrous,
leaving no doubt that dawn is still far off.

Howie Good‘s new collection of prose poetry is Famous Long Ago from Laughing Ronin Press.



J.R. Solonche

Flash Flood

A few drops
of rain, not even
enough to chase
me inside, but
a moth on the desert
of a hosta leaf
has found its oasis.

Nominated for the National Book Award and twice-nominated for the Pulitzer Prize, J.R. Solonche is the author of twenty-six books of poetry and coauthor of another.