Srila Munukutla - Case Western Reserve University

they say mushrooms grow 
where things go to die 
in dark, damp corners 
the air stagnant with neglect 

David Fladger - Arizona State University

What is the body of a dream, 
But ink stained eggshell 

Hadley Bruno - The College of Charleston

It is lonely to live in the past surrounded by ghosts. No Saviors
People you once knew. Once shared meals with. Once laughed with.
Memories lose sweetness to the bitterness of age. Is anyone listening? acknow ledgeme

Alistair Keay - Western Washington University

I grew 
the fur they always seem to want 
and teeth they never seem to manage, 
just another wallet photo rag-tag image;

Alexis Grace McGlothlin - College of Charleston

You watched your wings smoke and smolder, unable to fly, choices made and regretted -

Hadley Bruno - College of Charleston

I danced by your strings. You pulled and pushed; I jumped and swayed. But my strings were torn, and you said, “she’s damaged.”

Ambar Rivera - University of the Incarnate Word

she is wildflowers to me: 
calm, graceful, colorful, serene.

Colin Turner - University of North Carolina at Greensboro

It’s a funny thing: memory. Because for me Ash Wednesday is a cold blue morning in March. A cold blue morning in the car with cold windows and Pokémon Crystal.

Allison Croft - Lipscomb University

Where is God 
If not braided in its bones?

Emerson Amaya - Arizona State University

my mother didn’t hold me right away, said she needed sleep. i watched her blink at the wall instead of me. it’s strange, how even then i felt like a guest in my own life.

Sara Kaufman - Johns Hopkins University

I miss the soft hiss of the whispers that lived in the palms 
as the tropical winds played a bossa-tuned hymn in their fronds 

Aris Earls - University of the Incarnate Word

Empty. Empty. Empty.

It’s the only word I was able to remember. My eyes were glued shut. The sour taste of anesthesia lingered on my tongue.

Crystal Yang - Johns Hopkins University

Step into the bathroom, 
bright bulb, bare skin, breath held. 
The scale stares back, sterile, still. 
Closer each time, yet just as far. 
A number that never deems you enough. 
Rinse. Repeat.

Adonis Borer - University of La Verne

poor jackie, in glamorous pink, 
watches her husband 
shatter

Will McClelland - Arizona State University

Cry for the questing head  
of the creeping devil cactus  
who knows living means 
leaving himself behind.

Violet Foster - St. Lawrence University

The sun’s warmth feels like blood spilling 
All over my face. The poplar trees 
Catch me in their speckled bark.

Ben Coleman - University of Baltimore

Electricity mining for a vessel 
A head with deep scales and a spinning hose 
What grew out of Brahma’s day in his bathrobe 
Self-bottled and gurgling in petroleum footsteps.

Erica Mitchell - University of North Carolina at Greensboro

i pray to the girl’s God that you’ll live beyond myself; 
me before you. but i’ll never tell you so 

Srila Munukutla - Case Western Reserve University

perched on the stool, strong whiffs of coconut  
waft from her marinated scalp 
loving palms press slow circles 
the oil painting velvety streaks  
down the middle part onto the porcelain tiles

Amy Shin - New York University

Whitney Houston infused with morning breath, yesterday’s bok choy jumping  
in for percussion as staccato