Size / / /

you had a lizard on a lead

scales glowing bronze

claws trimmed

told me it was a dragon

I laughed

I know an anole when I see one

you saw rippled grain as wrinkles

my leaves a wig

I showed

the fresh knothole on my hand

you laughed

you know illusions when you see them

your lizard's smoke chased me but

now my roots are deeper and my

number carved on my arm coated in

fireproof varnish with no dragon to burn it




Polenth Blake lives where the mushrooms bloom in autumn. Polenth's first collection, Rainbow Lights, is out in the ocean somewhere.
Current Issue
10 Jun 2024

In summer, the crack on the windowpane would align perfectly with the horizon, right around 2 p.m.
airstrikes littering the litanies of my existence
I turn to where they are not, / and I nod to them, and they to me.
Issue 9 Jun 2024
Phonetics of Draconic Languages 
A Tour of the Blue Palace 
A Tale of Moths and Home (of bones and breathing) (of extrinsic restrictive lung disease) 
By Salt, By Sea, By Light of Stars 
Critical Friends Episode 11: Boundaries in Genre 
Friday: The House that Horror Built by Christina Henry 
,
Friday: Utopia Beyond Capitalism in Contemporary Literature: A Commons Poetics by Raphael Kabo 
Issue 3 Jun 2024
Issue 27 May 2024
Issue 20 May 2024
Issue 13 May 2024
Issue 6 May 2024
Issue 29 Apr 2024
Issue 15 Apr 2024
By: Ana Hurtado
Art by: delila
Issue 8 Apr 2024
Issue 1 Apr 2024
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