
Epithalamion Sealed in Wax
“The chambers of my heart are / infinite and many. / I fasten us beyond the last breath / and exempt us from death.”
“The chambers of my heart are / infinite and many. / I fasten us beyond the last breath / and exempt us from death.”
This March, Associate Editor Benjamin Bartu curates poems about eating and being eaten.
“I stood silent I fell into that maw / of water blackened with air my own”
“hands / that penned epics, chiseled limestone, callused / looping yarn around warp–we are / hyperbolic in recognition,”
We are so grateful to all of our partner-poets for sharing their work with us—please enjoy their beautiful words in our Featured Poetry catalogue.
“The puddles of my eyes ripen / into two giant green apples. Behind them / there’s a font where I met my reflection,”
By Ian Cappelli
“The newly bereaved / are attached to / becoming bereft. Pressing your / thumb into the wall, / new bombardment.”
Every middle of the month: new deadlines, new contests, and new opportunities for your work to find its audience. Here is a roundup of ten submission opportunities with deadlines in February or March, including Electric Literature, Fugue Journal, Black Warrior Review, and more.