NEW PAPERS 1



this is a poem about vacation
(in it, everything tastes like sand)

following an Adult Learner residency
at the Slow Motion Institute
I was awarded an all-expense-paid trip
to Horse Thief Canyon

we begin out past the leaking airport
ideally on a morning
when some Texas-millionaire type can declare

“I see the mountain is out today!”
and be right

I will be repeating a phrase
I am finally using correctly
paving over past ignorance 
in front of strangers

soon we will cross sacrifice zones
guided by painter’s tape
nervous and not knowing where the pockets are
on our new vests

we will push on for days
fighting off sunburn dreams
and huddling close in a bid 
to look like weather

and when we have gone far enough
that we feel the chill of government buildings
you and I will play log cabin

and I will smash a chair and burn it for warmth
as we discuss who should go for help
and how long they should be gone
before we pronounce them dead

all the while you are scraping your coat

nobody can figure out where all this cat hair is coming from
but it’s taking away from the gravity of the situation

Colton Karpman (Founding Editor)
    Editor’s Letter

Dilara Koz (Art Director)

Em Bauer (Illustrator)

Harry Lowther (Prose Editor)

Isaac Zamet (Poetry Editor)


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