Editor's Note: We present three poems from the upcoming book, I'd Rather Be Called a Nerd, by Dominic "Nerd" McDonald, winner of Day Eight's...

puddling late summer sunbeams fall through forest leaves wet with recent rain my path beside the creek slippery with puddles mud and round wet stones without warning a cloud...

Nighttime on the cusp of madness Nighttime ghosts cackle,eyes shut, painful gut,in a rut of another sleepless hour,no power to shutoff thoughts, delaysolutions, resolutions, absolutions,passing...

Abortion Sonnet When I have fears that I may cease to be before my pen can punctuate the brains of all those smug-ass pricks who only see the...

All 281 Days It has been exactly 281 dayssince I last wrote of yesteryears,of DEFCON Level 5 fuckery,of pain, of harm, of shadows;with the knowing...

Brood Covid We have been underground For what feels like forever Sucking on our cell phones As if they were tree roots. Now the time has come To put aside...

The Yellow Door By ramrod fleet, by coonskin cap,walking contraband visits the shops,in this one and out that one,purchases wrapped under arm or carriedin tiny...

WITNESSING PHOTOSYNTHESIS My partner ina sturdy flowerpot. She trips the lightfantastic, into all life. Comets arcuniverses, for her. Waves entwine like wreathsto holidays, for her. A sturdy flowerpotwalks out...

Missing, Presumed DeadThe mountain fell. Ice. No resistance.Canyon floor far below.What would the wives know?Crampon, piton, stance.The cloud bellowed. RopeGrew tight. Afternoon fadedInto night....

POEM ENDING WITH A NESTLING CRADLED IN MY HUSBAND’S LARGE HAND Because of the time difference I waketo a text from my husband, sent the...