Fall 2026

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  touching you is a dash in the paragraph of not touching you

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  This is what passes for dreaming, the decay of my days.

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  I think of my lost friend, who is done with imagining now.

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  Every man in the Humvee had the same red eyes and cracked lips. Nothing in Iraq stayed simple once men had to do it.

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  I yelled into the phone, naming her disrespect and dishonor.

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  The girl began to dance again, throwing her arms from side to side.

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Spring Contest Winners

• Gregory ClydeThe Distance to Fallujah
• Tryphena L. YeboahTilling the Land

Poetry

• Yong-Yu Huang
• Ted Kooser
• Cate Lycurgus

Cartoons

• Various ArtistsCartoon Art Volume 2026-10
• P. C. VeyRemembering Peter C. Vey

Graphic Stories

• Tracey K. BerglundSome Things I Actually Would Like to Elevate . . .
• Ali SolomonA Library Grows in the Bronx