Issue #7 ~ Spring 2022
Poetry

Mass in Harlem by Stelios Mormoris
I heard the news in a taxi cab
so I went straight to mass
in Harlem, where you were born,
Margarita Zitis, before the war.
By 116th Street, I knew you were
dead, but could see you shopping
across the median on Broadway…
Statistically Speaking by Emdash,
AKA Emily Lu Gao

Your Name by Tamara Nasution
The perfect three-syllable word in a sensual
curve of six alphabets: azalea, chakra,
tundra. It means nothing in your language and
everything in mine….
For Me–Desideratum by Amy S. Lerman
I carry it like an Epipen, this phrase that’s zippered
into my purse pocket, a graduate class residual
extracted only when no transliteration or alternate
diction works. What patience these two, gray-blue
words have evinced, sentenced at times to years
of dormancy, like the too-heavy-to use crystal…