
Coral
Not without tenderness
did Perseus place
the Gorgon’s head
within the water, cover it
with seaweed and then wash
his hands of blood.
I guess the urgency
was gone—Andromeda’s chains
lay slack against the cliff
while the ocean grew
its inner life, a fragile city
without the growing pains
of graffiti—Amor Perdita,
Lilya 4-eva, and all that.
Someone’s bound
to know this place, where
the hurry of myth leaves us,
lets us smart from received blows,
charitable sun, all stony clarification
of an otherwise chaotic blue.
-- ARIANA KELLY
We seek writing that lives in several worlds nimbly, lucidly, that explores and revitalizes ancient and contemporary history and myth.
We publish poems, translations, travelogue, and tales, tall & short, along with critical essays and reviews. We invite original and innovative work informed by the traveling life, tempered by the climate, currents and appetites of that vital middle sea—our sea, and yours, for a song.