Contributor: A.J. Huffman

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Calling backwards from some displaced
internal echo. I am
the grey light shining through the splinter-
ing[ly false?] dawn. Answer:
the fielding of myriad groans. Walls
wailing. Watering weeds (you name them
flowers) in the sidewalked crawlspace
you believe is a coherent mind. Do you
wish for winter among the hills of this desert?
I do [not] understand the desire to freeze.
Solid is just another form of condensation.
Evaporate is the true trail. Follow [my voice and]
its silver silken exhaust[ion]. Deeper
is the true color of calm.


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A.J. Huffman’s poetry, fiction, and haiku have appeared in hundreds of national and international journals, including Labletter, The James Dickey Review, and Offerta Speciale, in which her work appeared in both English and Italian translation.