Sarah Fawn Montgomery

Menu Current Volume Archive About Us Submit Categories Sarah Fawn Montgomery Sarah Fawn Montgomery is the author of the craft text Nerve: Unlearning Workshop Ableism to Develop Your Disabled Writing Practice and Quite Mad: An American Pharma Memoir, which The Atlantic says, “Exemplifies a nuanced approach to life with mental illness” and The Paris Review describes as “The wakeup call we need.” Fathom, a poetry collection on chronic pain and invisible disability is forthcoming from the Propel Disability Poetry Book Series. She is also the author of the essay collection Halfway from Home, winner of a Nautilus Book Award for lyric prose, the flash collection Abbreviate, and three poetry chapbooks. She is the founder and editor-in-chief of Nerve to Write, a magazine for disabled, chronically ill, and neurodivergent writers, and an Associate Professor at Bridgewater State University. Website: sarahfawnmontgomery.com/ Curation

Cathy Allman

Menu Current Volume Archive About Us Submit Categories Cathy Allman Cathy Allman writes from Naples, FL and Norwalk, CT where she lives with her husband. She has been widely published in dozens of literary journals, including Cimarron Review, Moon City Review, The Potomac Review, and Terminus. She has her MFA from Manhattanville University. Her poem Not in the Wonder Box was nominated for a Pushcart Prize. Her debut collection All Those Windowed Rooms is coming out from Finishing Line Press in late May 2026. Class Reunion, Homecoming

Anorexia

Anorexia by Claire Scott Bear with meI have been given muchbut received little steeped in refusalwhere blades of hungerkeep despair at bay concealing ringsof whorled memoriesmidnight hands insisting no mercy in my morning teanot noticing the warm rain floatingover fallow land not noticingthe piles of pineapples, of pearsof cheeses and chocolateson an empty plate Poetry Home Art by Lilith Smith

Palouse Hills, Near Pullman

Palouse Hills, Near Pullman by Jeffrey Gray Riding west on the bus from the dry land east of the mountains I knew I wouldn’t see you again for a year or more and out the window lay those hills two thousand years of silt blown down from the glaciers eroding pale buff but wintry I was seeing them for the first time and never would again never will with your death now so many years behind and no reason to go back to the cropped wheat or to your wish to be a meadow with that return cut off in your life’s own evening in those rooms in that town in that car and the death that you took— (though we say she took her life —) never leaves me not in the cells formed this morning nor those in the infant night where they foliate unsensed unseen. Poetry Home Art by Lilith Smith

Kris Willcox

Menu Current Volume Archive About Us Submit Categories Kris Willcox Kris Willcox has published fiction and essays in Kenyon Review on-line, swamp pink, Portland Review, Rappahannock Review, Cleaver Magazine, and elsewhere. She lives in the Boston area with her spouse, two teenagers, and a poorly-trained but affable labradoodle. Carp of Surprise

Kara Dorris

Menu Current Volume Archive About Us Submit Categories Kara Dorris Kara Dorris is the author of three poetry collections: HitBox (Kelsay Books 2024), Have Ruin, Will Travel (2019) and When the Body is a Guardrail(2020) from Finishing Line Press. She has also published five chapbooks, including prose chapbook Carnival Bound [or, please unwrap me] (The Cupboard Pamphlet, 2020). Her poetry has appeared in Prairie Schooner, Redivider, Nine Mile, DIAGRAM, Puerto del Sol, and swamp pink, among other literary journals, as well as the anthology Beauty is a Verb (2011). Her prose has appeared in Wordgathering, Breath and Shadow, The Past Ten, Waxwing, and the anthology The Right Way to be Crippled and Naked (Cinco Puntos Press, 2016). Recently, she edited the poetry anthology Writing the Self-Elegy: The Past is Not Disappearing Ink (SIU Press, 2023). She is currently an Associate Professor of English at Illinois College. Website: karadorris.com You Could Have Gone West, Acknowledgements

Lilith Smith

Menu Current Volume Archive About Us Submit Categories Lilith Smith Artist Statement: Central to my studio practice is the profound impact images wield in arresting and seducing viewers. In my work, I integrate vibrant hues, beaded embellishments, and tactile surfaces to beckon observers into immersive visual narratives often veiled in collaged motifs of intimacy. Simultaneously, my work reflects an intricate web of my lived experiences as a woman of trans experience navigating the complexities of current culture through a poetic language of abstraction. Artist Bio: Lilith Smith is a visual artist who earned her MFA from the University of Cincinnati College of DAAP in 2012. Her artistic practice includes works on fabric, drawings, paintings, collage and video art. Lilith’s work has been showcased internationally in London, England; St. Petersburg, Russia; Brisbane, Australia, as well as in various venues across the United States. Currently, she serves as Faculty of Painting and Drawing at Metropolitan Community College in Omaha, NE. Website: lilithsmith.com

Carol Everett Adams

Menu Current Volume Archive About Us Submit Categories Carol Everett Adams Carol Everett Adams writes poems about Disney theme parks, UFO’s, organized religion, and other topics. Her poems have been published in California Quarterly, Crack the Spine, Euphony, FRiGG, Hawaii Pacific Review, The New York Quarterly, The Virginia Normal, and many others. She earned her MFA in Writing from the University of Nebraska. You can connect with her at caroleverettadams.com Website: caroleverettadams.com Uber Ride, RDU Edition

Julia Rapp

Menu Current Volume Archive About Us Submit Categories Julia Rapp Julia Rapp is a pushcart-nominated poet and songwriter who lives in Norwalk, Connecticut. Her work has been featured in Birdcoat Quarterly, Chaotic Merge, 45th Parallel, Welter, Drunk Monkeys, and others. You can find her on social media: @jujujulife, and on Spotify under the artist name Julia Rapp. Instagram: @jujujulife On the day we meet let’s tell the bartender that we’re freshly divorced