my type lies about their music taste until it’s too late and we’re both pretending to like St. Vincent
Poetry
Five Poems by Max Hamilton
o-scrape off in time n-watch th-word-raid brake
Best Kept Secret
My old is translated and tampered with by the new
Don’t
Don’t hold my face when you say it./
Don’t look at me as if you’ll crumble if I turn away.
Poems by Sasha Trufanov
I’m roaming inside America/
My feet have gotten very cold
what becomes of the spring (after Ocean Vuong’s “Aubade With Burning City”)
They warn each other not to breathe me in
Anti-Sweetheart Sentiment
I’ve always thought redemptions should come in the form of damp little castles.
Button-Up
Unbuttoning is always forgettable; in either a monotonous or adrenaline-filled way.
Bill of Rights Poem
My cries for equality cannot be silenced
No Dog Could Hunt You Like I Could
Kiss by kiss/I build you