Through Any Fissure

Paul Stilwell

Sanctuary in the open, silent
ripple of sails in that flower
the morning glory: tissue-thin
wind-reversed white parasol,

flesh of which ebbs with air beside
the blue dumpster hard against
the concrete base below
the wooden telephone pole. [Read more…]

The Sacred Way

Neil Brown

Gerard Depuy, his tunic open in an un-soldierly way, stood on the corner of an anonymous street that intersected the road from Bar le Duc. He had no idea what day it was; all the days seemed pretty much the same. The sight that lay in his vision gripped him in a mixture of awe and revulsion. Although it was early morning, the Bar le Duc road was crowded with the implements of war–men, animals and machinery–wrestling for space. All heading to and from the inferno that was Verdun. With each passing vehicle large clouds of dust were kicked up, adding to the thick coating that had turned everything in the town to a consistent shade of dull brown. After months of heavy vehicles beating the road, several of the houses that lined it had their backbones shattered, eventually leaning forward precariously over the street and creating a sinister gateway to what lay beyond. [Read more…]

The New Jerusalem

John Heard

Will you live; will you live in the physical world? With the sun setting low and the shadows unfurled? Can you live with the way they make you look un-real?

– “The Taming of the Hands that Came Back to Life,” Sunset Rubdown

There must be a place where modernity is as nothing. A place that is not a philosophy department, say at some university, where a majority of professors think the modern project is either implausible or else exhausted. That is, the place cannot be post-modern in the usual, theory-inflected sense of that term. [Read more…]


Kate Bluett

I: Annunciation

Fra Angelico was definitely a man.
How many times did he paint her
caught at that improbable moment,
troubled, we’re told, by that impossible greeting,
and in every one of his images her face is piously calm. [Read more…]

leaving and livening

Eric Kingsepp

take the spring
take outward things
showing off their new-found greens

take the summer
heat and sun
overgarbed in light-streaked clouds

a pretty maid, but growing still
with much potential left to fill [Read more…]


Richard J. Rodriguez

Sed sicut scriptum est quod oculus non vidit nec auris audivit nec in cor hominis ascendit quae praeparavit Deus his qui diligunt illum.

– 1 Corinthians 2:9

Reveille, Reveille!
The heralds of eternal daylight
Flip off circuit breakers, flooding
Forth electric erudition, shocking
Suns into the skies, slinging
Melancholic moons beneath the earth:
Aeterna lux, clamantis vox,
A far cry ringing newly
Out across capacious plains. [Read more…]


Gabriel Olearnik

The glass upset of London is here
as unnoticed as the tides.

This river of friction
sandpapering your irises
the cuts on a thousand corneas too deep to excise.
Can we re-set jelly? Can aqueous humors run
backward in viscous currents?
No. There will always be a blackness at the centre of your eyes.

[Read more…]

April Error

Sr. Mary Catherine Vukmanic, OSU

A robin sang “April.”
My heart did the same,
And a calendar hailed
The month of that name.

But nature, distracted,
Mismanaged things so;
She sent with the springtime
Not flower, but snow.

[Read more…]


Gabriel Olearnik

Erat quippe in ipsa civitate Parisius adolescentula quedam nomine Heloysa, neptis canonici cuiusdam qui Fulbertus.

Why do I seek the living among the dead
she is not here
she is

In Paris I was aquiline
my face eagle, noble, trimmed
in that place of rolled scrolls
I left the iron mittens of fine lineage
sold my birthright and bought books. [Read more…]


John A. Di Camillo

Sacred silence settles on the soul.
The heart’s thin veil is gently lifted.
Her eyes, in looking out, see in.
Distortion, distraction, delusion:
Cut down by serenity’s blade,
Crimson clarity.

Life courses swiftly, silent and steady,
Unseen but softly felt,
Until now, exposed, shines bright and crimson, crimson.

[Read more…]