Abstract art with smeared paint in pink, orange, lavender, and red. Black scribbles. WTR logo: West Trestle Review. Train on a trestle.
It’s ugly out there, but I made something beautiful with the help of some beautiful people.
www.westtrestlereview.com
Just for fun, here's some of Issue 8's (Collage) most popular authors: @angelaarnold777.bsky.social, Kelly White Arnold, @kathrynreese.bsky.social, @jackbedell.bsky.social, Francis de Lima, @hubbsd.bsky.social, Jacqueline Rosado, @kellyrsamuels.bsky.social, Colin James, Annika Bey, BEE LB, ...
Heather Christle, from Paper Crown
Jill Osier, from should our undoing come down upon us white
Here’s Kelly R. Samuels and “Re: Talking of Wallpaper” for ballast 3.4’s contributor features w/ @kellyrsamuels.bsky.social
Read the full poem here
www.ballastjournal.com/kelly-r-samu...
#contributorfeature
#poem
#poems
#ballast
#KellyRSamuels
Three poems in the newest issue of The Glacier. Thank you, David, John, and The Glacier Team.
theglacierjournal.com/issue-four/
SUBS ARE OPEN FOR ISSUE 8: COLLAGE!
But what're the rules? Here's a Reader's Digest version.
Mind the Off Limits List! buff.ly/xboarlD
Rules: buff.ly/W6Q0BoP
#writingprompt #writingcommunity #poetry #poetrycommunity #collage #artistcommunity #indielit #litmag
Adagio We never said aloud: into the earth or fire. And if earth, then where. And if fire, then where to cast the ashes. Each thought the other would choose: choosing for two, not one— the body lying flat, the body left upright. And if a stone.
Ellen Bryant Voigt. 💔
Cover image for ballast issue 3.4. Chalk drawing of three circles with white and red text saying “ballast 3.4 fall 2025”
ballast issue 3.4 (our last of 2025) is officially unleashed 🛸
www.ballastjournal.com/issue-34-tab...
With Daniel Barbiero, Jerome Berglund, Joel Chace, Michael Daley, @geoffreydetrani.bsky.social, Connor Fisher, J. Freeborn, G Timothy Gordon, Vivian Ia, Jenna Jaco, Ted Jean, David Koehn…1/2
2/2 and Jason Labbe, Andrew Maxwell, Jory Mickelson (@poetryphone.bsky.social), Pete Miller, Matthew Murrey (@mytwords.bsky.social), Tom Phillips translating Tzatcho Boyajiev, Caroline Picker, @megpokrass.bsky.social, RL Powell, @kellyrsamuels.bsky.social, @hannahazar.bsky.social, Misha Tentser 2/…
Rose McLarney, from Colorfast.
New poem in the Phantom Issue of Azarao. Thank you to Sandrine. www.azarao-litjournal.com/kelly
Aracelis Girmay, from Green of All Heads
New poem up at Action, Spectacle. Gratitude to Adam.
www.action-spectacle.com/summer-2025-...
New prose at @theargylelitmag.bsky.social Thank you to David for selecting “Cleaning Other People’s Houses,” a piece about my mother.
www.theargylelitmag.com/nonfiction-3...
Thanks so much to @maggiesmithpoet.bsky.social @slowdownshow.org for featuring the poem The Happy Middle by Hedgie Choi, author of the poetry collection Salvage! Listen here: tinyurl.com/3hz7k7wy
wildroofjournal.substack.com/p/saturday-s...
Check out our new batch of lit mag and small press listings
@moonstonearts.bsky.social @doesithavepockets.bsky.social @stonecoastreview.bsky.social @meowmeowpowpow.bsky.social @kellyrsamuels.bsky.social @allisonhicks.bsky.social @linalambert.bsky.social
Hedgie Choi, from Salvage. #booksky
Today’s poem is selected by Emily Skaja (@emilyskaja.bsky.social) as part of the 20th anniversary of Read A Little Poetry.
It appeared in The Master Letters by Lucie Brock-Broido, published by Alfred A. Knopf, 1995. Shared here with deep gratitude.
Issue 15 of Blood Tree Literature is available to order! I’m happy to have a poem in this print issue that features work by past contributors.
The Innocent For weeks we watched for hatchlings to come of three smug eggs tucked into a nest, the nest tucked into the crook of a neighbor's honeysuckle. Time nodded, was nodding— the shred of living, how offhand the wind teeters toward erosion. Hard at work, on guard in two backyards, the robins mothered and fathered their territory daily. And beyond, our block's alley stretched, aimless as fields, where watching happens by accident, by nature. They'd squawk on a streetlamp, a cedar fence, our back stoop, warning off the tabby, my two young sons, everyone stuck at home. I lost my mind with watching and thought it grief or egotism, the bruise of yesterday, not least the sky unraveling another season. It was easy to mistake the bared skeletal pinions as lawn clippings, old leaves. That circle in the grass, a massacre of feathers. That terrible cat. It was easy to lose my mind. One neighbor said, Let's not tell the children, why know the world as always fated toward remnant. Another said, Go, take the nest, set it under glass, and make it a lesson. Instead, I watched our habits pass, the honeysuckle fade from sickly sweet to nothing but heat. Call it science. It's summer again, and then everything's remnant. What did we do those days, stuck at home, my sons might someday ask. We lived or tolerated living. We looked away from death.
Jennifer Chang
Thank you!
New summer issue
Featuring @1andrewcollard.bsky.social, @katiekemple.bsky.social, @alisonpelegrin.bsky.social, @sambranopoet.bsky.social, @kellyrsamuels.bsky.social, @mhwack.bsky.social, @ellenwelcker.bsky.social, @tracylchandler.bsky.social, @gregory-euclide.bsky.social, @todaysaaron.bsky.social
New piece up at Wild Roof Journal’s Substack. Big thank you to @aaronlelito.bsky.social for all he does for writers. wildroofjournal.substack.com/p/getting-aw...
Megan Merchant, from Hortensia, in winter. #booksky
Lucie Brock-Broido, from Trouble in Mind. #booksky
