By: James Parker

“Until I can get up into this trance,/all is randomness, all mischance.”

By: James Parker

“Should I lay down my war axe / and sit in the shit / and rotate beautiful colors in my bluebottle thorax?”

By: James Parker

“Out to sea, out to sea,/where the albatross ungainly dives/and the cunning anchovy thrives!”

By: James Parker

Lemminkainen, ice-locked,/hearing the groan of his trapped ship,/works up a counter-charm.

By: James Parker

“The churned sheets were a vortex/and there could be no more sex/because of the pain in my cortex.”

By: Matthew Battles

In hiking & poetry, choosing not to choose.

By: HILOBROW

From our friends at Three Percent.

By: Peggy Nelson

What is the sound of cyberspace?