![A Brief Exhibition of Bumblebees [or] Another Unsent Letter to Sweet Emily During a Time of Our National and Psychological Distress](https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/57e17bb003596e2bdd427713/1607564744888-UNC6ZNO0FHL150EJM1MX/image-asset.jpeg)
by Timston Johnston
I’ve been actively distancing myself from that notion but find myself prone to bumbling around the neighborhood after dinner. It’s there that nothing is expected of me, and I spend my time changing sidewalks, waving to deck-dwellers and inventorying the contents of their recycle bins.
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by Hailey Spencer
Elizabeth’s food is slid through a plastic window.
The sky begins a careful drip drip drip.
Our sandals slip.
by Sara Collie
It’s funny how quickly our bodies adapt, how swiftly the strangest of gestures becomes ordinary. Before I can quite understand what is happening I am checking the road behind me and, noticing it is clear (because it’s still possible to die in all of the old, ordinary ways), I am running right out beyond the cycle lane, into the middle of the empty road, giving the person a berth much wider than the suggested 2 meters. My heart is pounding with the shock of remembering; with the guilt that I somehow forgot all the horror for even a moment. I can’t quite believe I was running along oblivious for however many minutes it lasted.
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by Pamela Viggiani
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by Sherry Shahan
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by Lagnajita Mukhopadhyay
instead touch every thing you can
touch yourselves, or your brains,
slowly pick out the spikes
Song by The Mayor of Meeker (Matthew Shovlin)
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by Michael Colbert
We’ve gotten used to strolling at night. Once, undergrads who might be our students lined up for rooftop bars on Front Street, where maybe they could watch the Cape Fear River, which now sits dormant, which has gone dark with fewer headlights on the bridge, fewer boats in the water.
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by Katelyn Bland-Clark
Life has been an endless carousel since he was born a year ago. I go around and round: changing and spraying and washing cloth diapers, breastfeeding and snack-making… To Avery, none of this matters. The clock still chimes every fifteen minutes.
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by James Gallant
In dealing with the pandemic psychologically, it is important to realize, first of all, that to feel anguish in troubled, ambiguous times is perfectly normal.
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by Roddy Williams
No one is stealing anything
in case the enemy is hiding in the booty
Robbers are at home eating popcorn
watching cop porn
by Patricia Patterson
Day 14: I sit by the window. I stay by the window. I sleep by the window. A cardinal pecks at the window. I want to let him inside, say, “See? Your reflection isn’t reality.” I tap on the glass to scare him away, but I only feel my fingers striking, see my reflection staring back.
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by Michael Colbert
Each day, I make it through my lists: books to read, TV to watch, things to do. Watching others from the balcony, the lists loosen. The people beyond my balcony collect in my mind.
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by Maryann Aita
I would miss tiny things. I would miss sandwiches, and free tote bags with $50 purchases, and guessing which one my cats is sitting on me in the dark.
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by Andy Oram
“A Product of Reproduction Number and Serial Time”
“A People Silhouetted, Deprivation Glimpse”
”Enclosure”
