On:

The Spring equinoxhas come and gone green shaftsof iris and tulip have stabbed throughlayers of earth. Yellow heads of daffodils and purpleflashes of crocus have opened to the sun.Yet here it is the first day of April and the windchill is twenty three. We’ve had scatteredflurries, and I wonder whatContinue Reading

On:

Sisters,I would not unwild younor attempt to keep. Look at your wings! Say gossamer& have it be too thicka word for the whir of you! Some fool men define your liquor asdistillation of fallen rainbows, they say,constellations made dew you gather, but I know better- how females strive, orchard orContinue Reading

On:

As it chewsthroughthe nurseryloaves,hatching broodtunnels throughan immaculate darknessimmured withcareful clippings. Its birth intothe light bristleswith a certaintyunknown to uswho wakeinto an opacityso densely vacuousthat we subsiston sifted memories. Estée Arts Crenshaw is a doctoral candidate in the department of Writing & Rhetoric Studies at the University of Utah. She receivedContinue Reading

On:

dreamt a country of wild beesduring the usual restless sleeponly, they were augmented by the troubleof domestication, that in mind’s countrythe systems are kept in line, in delicate assemblage when I woke, I wished this world to be madeof hexagonal prisms, a honeycomb we could climb throughand lay up againstContinue Reading

On:

I am waiting for a day that is warmand without wind. I need a splitfor my mediums, a spring swarmto find my trap and deign to use it.I’ve painted boxes, placed lavendersprays in line to wick the top feeder,used lemongrass oil as lure. Howeverempty my frames are now, I shallContinue Reading