Writing from Frey, Wayne and Maziar

from SORROW ARROW


The second to last train stop overlooks a metal yard

A lot of people are eating

In the movie we're graceful, less monotonous

We're not bunched up against the present

The sign at the church says heaven's got an edge

I don't want my donut

There's that picture book about the steam shovel that keeps digging

Old-fashioned nostalgia for a machine that works

My zone opens

I'll keep several appointments with a gaping zone

Then lob my machines into the cold, swollen river


Emily Kendal Frey

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Poem


sounds like we’re stopping a party along its glitter track

this transcriptionist is bird shaped

behind a door of neon-like light

a cabinet of speech

it’s my new dress

patterned as a beast might

the heat comes on, the roof is a reserve

we work our way into the archive

and the particular paper adheres

to a green glow, purple text with silver thread

I walk a small circumference

where the city starts to reopen

dry notes rain down with the cottonwood


Phoebe Wayne

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Magick

Come where you can hear
the traffic light change
from lime to carmine
so small
disentangle me
fly me away
what you say
many moonlit times


Paul Maziar