By: Michelle Nedboy It reeks of applesauce and kid sweat, the tables pushed out to the sides like bleachers. Stacks of abused board games get brought out and plunked; there are never enough pieces. Dunked, by bored genius, we turn a chess set into a disco, lose the pieces like it’s the Scooby show. Ruh-roh. Every day is Christmas ‘cause we get a second recess. We bound up the light blue stairs with its chipping banisters. We skip across the blacktop’s cracks, stop and squat w

By: David O’Keefe Glistening like starlight Upon the oaken walls And aged stone floor, The moistness Of morning came. Light pierced glass, And brought day Into a tomb of night. All that was once Still came to being. The hearth alit With newfound hope For pot and kettle; It sang a song for its Life companions. At last, boots were strapped, And overcoats held Tightly to shoulders. And the Sun was greeted Like an old friend. A version of this originally appeared in “Comfort” The

By: Joey Gyarmathy i shoot through it all rebooted and rejuvenated still the wretched and twisted faces of murmurers haunt my gut with feels of pain and wicked remembrance of glancing through a kaleidoscope nostrils dripping with ice toes exposed to 7 below no reds and rice zero celsius my toes stay warm in two pairs socks and pants cream cheese and coffee in one hand and the ai invasion in the other brisk nights two or three stops from bedford reassociate me the crisp teleki

By: Nicole Wasylak Might there be a symphony in the tree? A concert in the forest, where a conductor bears more legs than two? I’ve heard it every night A loud musical, echoing beyond the tenebrous trees First, begins the crickets with their tambourines Clashing Once, twice, three times Swelling with the heartbeat of the earth Which refuses to finish when the sun awakens And then, the drumbeat of the bullfrog Slow Slow Slow A cadence so low even all who are sleeping wink an e

By: Taylor Dinardo On the phone, we decided what kind of dog we would get— a samoyed, the dog with all the optimal traits: friendly and good-natured, gentle around children, excellent watchdogs— and the doggy would live with us in our house, a white ranch with a beautiful yard somewhere on the Island. And we would get a cat, too— one of those Siberians. They’re friendly, adventurous, and sensationally puffy. Our cat would accompany us during our indoor hours, and the dog woul

By: Pamela Loperena 7 A.M. morning light marvels at how my eyelids can be closed for so long. Yet in the clouds of my comfort zone, I dwell upon a REM stage of deep dreaming, where wistful, illusions envelop me whole. Floating off my feet, I caress the feelings of my younger hands and curls, getting in touch with the silhouette I used to be. I set a candle aside, letting it kindle her distress. She finds relief in my new, calm composure, realizing that the days of tomorrow wi

By: Nicole Wasylak You’re made of the very energy that sizzles around you Nothing can compare to the beauty of your soul— Not the pyramids, not the Stonehenge, not even the city lights That burn like fireflies in a country field. You’re beauty burns from within your soul like a wildfire, bright and unstoppable, fierce as the next sunrise But you don’t see it You see the ugly You see the cracks and dilapidation in the pyramids, The missing pieces in Stonehenge, the darkness in

By: Emily Fego Sir, What motivates you To get out of bed And raise your flag without fear of retribution? To march with a torch gripped in white knuckles, To tear through linked arms, To decorate your clothing with two eights, Belching hate disguised as activism. You, sir, with your lips Glazed in a layer of cheap whiskey Coiled as if only to Block the excrement from seeping Through your yellowed teeth. You, sir, always wear your hood Even when it is not draped over your head

By: Mia Paquin 1 foot, 2 feet, 3… Persist. Push through. Have determination. You’ve got this! I sit. I stare. I think. I can’t move. (silence) I stir. I shake. I fidget. I can’t stay still. 4 feet, 5… Up to the chin in water. The tree stands tall against the rain. You can do this. Be the tree. But the water keeps coming Rain, rain go away And now I’m five feet under. Swimming upwards, but not breaking the surface Sit, Stare, Think, Stir, Shake, Fidget Do Something! And now I’

By: Michelle Nedboy I’ve never wished for anything. To say I’d rather return to my childhood and slip away from this callous life, this life that leaves me nauseated and helpless, heaving in the middle of the night. Like an ill creature, heaving and gasping from the vivid nightmares that poison my thoughts, and the hourly obsessions that are my thoughts. To say I’d rather experience rebirth than the spiraling guilt I feel from those who’ve died because of me and because of my

By: Katie Goldblatt I am a fighter. In the ring, the crowd marvels at me. The underdog, the shell of steel who manages to win the battles, although she’s never the favorite. They ask, up in the stands, with their microphones and camera flashes shoved in my face: “Where’d you get the spunk, young girl, the fuel to power you? To inspire your spirit? Where did you get the fire?” I smile broadly as I answer, the truest reply that I know: “My momma.” A version of this post origina

By: Taylor Dinardo I will hold onto you even when my center of gravity disappears and I myself have no ground. A version of this post originally appeared in “Tenacity” The Teller October 2019 Issue #7 Most Recent Posts #Poetry #TaylorDinardo

By: Pamela Loperena With the strength of every new heartbeat tugging her dreams forward, she blazes through life’s obstacles, that many believed were impossible— faster than any peregrine falcon can fly. As a chariot rising above the clouds, come hell or high water, she’s not the type to sit back or relax, when the world is ready to collapse, and doomsday draws dusk nearer. Wearing her scars, like armor, right into battle, she’s prepared to fight the darkest of demons, even i

By: Samantha Hughes They say When life gives you lemons Make lemonade I say When life gives you lemons Cut them in halves And eat them Whole I say Do not wait for them to sweeten Eat them sour and bitter With your fist clenched your eyes shut a lemon juice dripping down your forearm A version of this post originally appeared in “Tenacity” The Teller October 2019 Issue #7 Most Recent Posts #Poetry #SamanthaHughes

By: Bethelihem Gebresilasie You just let me turn the knob on your front tooth and I slid down your tongue. There was light in there which I didn’t expect. I look forward and realized you had lampshades on your tonsil stones. I found it endearing and slightly whimsical. I thought, “I should do the same thing.” I pressed one of your cavities that was blinking bright yellow, and waited for the elevator to arrive. It was comfortable, a cozy mansion, which feels like an oxymoron.

By: Katherine Boyle The artist enters the room. The artist will swim through an ink of heavy waters in the space between the mountains, I hear an expanse of light; we used to see clearly in that sunlight: do not permit this reductive past to close your mind. Consider the mirror. The artist gazes the self abstracts upon recognition. The artist looks into the soil of this earth and I see the beauty in a reflection, beneath caving plaster, above the mattress. Through the mirror,

By: Diana Testa My tired eyes fixate on the morning Mountains— glowing purple and peach rock. Nine miles of unsteady breathing Has me wishing this run was a tranquil walk. My aching legs meet rolling hills That appear to bring me closer to the peak. I push on though my body craves to be still— I cannot let the mountains know I’m weak. A version of this post originally appeared in “Tenacity” The Teller October 2019 Issue #7 Most Recent Posts #DianaTesta #Poetry

By: Jiesu I. he opened salvation like Siddhartha full of peace he is and we both know life is pain and the world is full of suffering but we are soft and new to this path to enlightenment and he he opened a path to freedom, a path to end to my suffering, and we thrive in our fidelity II. he is light like a star in the heavens walking in perfect bliss; he had bound ahead of me at first but then he doubled back now he takes my hand, bright and leading, he brings a new pace

By: Skylar Coons Tenacity is vibrant, finding strength to move on. Ignore the voices in my head, it’s OK to be strong. Strength is measured by the steps I can take, to carry through the hardships and learn to accept mistakes. Mistakes are human there is no way around them. The more mistakes I make, the easier it is to get up off the ground. Falling can be cataclysmic but I can’t feel the pain. As long as I am human I can learn to get back up again. A version of this post orig

By: Jade Mogavero At dusk, I went aboard the crystalline train Carts filled with stragglers— Impatient and brusque. Chatter would rise within the air, Then often waned. Carts filled with stragglers that held no possessions, Their skulls white and frail, Coated with strips of dry skin— They peeled off and pieced together their masks many moons before, I pondered if they detect mine growing thin. The bewitching hour was the commencement of our feast Clouds of white mice were wh