Martina Reisz Newberry: “Rachel is weeping for her children…”
I imagine I can see
scratched and scarred places on
my children’s bodies.
They are the places where I
used to live
May 17, 2021 · 2 Comments
Martina Reisz Newberry: Nüshu
Games of innocence, death of innocence,
scent of longing…pray to these lesser gods,
my dears, that they will jump into the way
of what comes for us.
March 15, 2021 · 1 Comment
Martina Reisz Newberry: Romans
We will look back at the last of the sunflowers leaning so low, and we’ll recall the “end times,” swooning at the way the brown sky infiltrated houses
February 3, 2021 · 2 Comments
Martina Reisz Newberry: Ode to Escrava Anastacia
Dear phantom,
I have nothing save love
for you.
December 30, 2020 · 1 Comment
Martina Reisz Newberry: Passing a Deserted High School in the Nuclear Sunshine of a Fall Afternoon
I ought to study signs and portents.
October 5, 2020 · 1 Comment
