A SIMPLE MACHINE by Eric W. Schramm

A SIMPLE MACHINEThe noose that was used to hang John Brown is allegedly in the permanent collection at the Massachusetts Historical Society. Frayed and wild threadsfrom where the knife torethe rope from...

Most Recent Poetry

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Articles from the Archive

I wake up with you not beside me by Nathaniel Lachenmeyer

This poem is published as part of the Amplifying Disabled Voices special section, selected by editors Christopher Heuer, Marlena Chertock, and Gregory Luce. I wake...

Gorèe Island Ghosts by Tichaona Chinyelu

These poems are part of a special section of the Mid-Atlantic Review, Celebrating Black History, and selected by editors Khadijah Ali-Coleman, Carolivia Herron, and...

Jane Franklin on “Found”

Unlike a writer - who works alone until ‘ready’ for the editor - choreographers most frequently do not choreograph without another body, a human subject. Ideas are being observed and evaluated by your dancers, in front of your own public as it were, even as they are being created.

Two Poems By Bruce Black

The poems in this post are part of a special section, curated by Ori Z Soltes and Robert Bettmann, The Jewish Experience. No wordsBy...

The DC Cowboys by Kevin Platte

The founder and Artistic Director of the D.C. Cowboys writes about his work with the company, their mission, and their plans.

Subspace by J T Kirkland

One time when I was young my father asked me to help him in the shop by sanding some wood. I began sanding the board against the grain. When my Dad barked at me for it I threw the sanding block down and never helped him again. So perhaps it’s fitting that for the past thirteen years my work has focused almost exclusively on the natural beauty of wood.

What You Owe Me by Monica Leak

What You Owe Me Truly this nation remains in debtDespite approving the funds necessary to address the ceilingYes, we the people,Bound by a noninclusive constitutionWith...

Take Me to the River By Richard L. Dana

At the end of May I'll be going to Montevideo to participate in a collaborative project with six Uruguayan visual artists. Coming with me...

Two Poems by Kate Stolzfus

The Night I Hear Sharon Olds Read Some rooms look dead from the outside.I eat late. I drink so much. Cold moon over an old drugstore...

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