A journal of rediscovery
Editor’s Note: Occasionally while going through submissions, we come across works that just seem to fit together. The three pieces featured this week are all in different artistic forms. Each one speaks to the concept of war, how it affects those involved, and how life manages to go on during
Tetradic Sequence from Below and Above, Before and After blocked ears, closed minds, rage;wisdom falls as late fall’s leaves:heroes’ tragedies *** finch pecks by window February slows him downwarm inside. poor bird *** after the last blastall the leaves curled, browned, crisped, droopedobsolete as arms *** gone. but where you weresmolders
Hello from Poor Yorick! And welcome to our November Double Feature. This month we are highlighting two wonderful pieces: a short story by R.S. MacDonald and a poem by Mercury-Marvin Sunderland. Each of these pieces is reflective of fall, of life and death, of change and transformation. We hope you’ll
The Ruins Along the mountain pass I made my way, Beneath the razor edges of the hills, Below the peaks that scraped the heightened air, Which at their summits still held hoary snow. My phone’s map app had long since ceased to work, And I had brought no compass for
Shadows do not own their shape
but rely on that of their origin—
whether alive or inanimate stone—
a shadow cannot survive alone. … Continue readingShadows Long and Shadows Short by Jeremy Gadd
Our golden apparitions decay and leave the poisonous lead behind … Continue readingLead: Three Poems by Jessica Martin
I’ll alight on this wing,
my own song to sing,
til darkness makes its call … Continue readingTell Them (the song all of me sings) by Meghan K. Strapec
Editor’s Note The theme for this special issue emerged from multiple sources of inspiration and observation that came together in a way that just made sense. I’d observed that poetry was our most popular submission category, that April was National Poetry Month, and that sometimes, a few
Continue readingThe Poet’s Mask, a Poor Yorick Special Issue
Often, at home, I unpinned Yorick’s bells and put them on myself, taking a bit of laughter’s weight, for being teased requires greater patience than you think. … Continue readingRemembering Yorick by Elizabeth Sylvia