{ else / esque }


Yesenia Montilla took part in Platano Poetry Café’s poetry series, here:



Montilla’s work in {isacoustic*} is here:



Please check out Kat Giordano’s new book, The Poet Confronts Bukowski’s Ghost, here:



Giordano’s work in {isacoustic*} is here:



This Someone I Call Stranger, poetry by James Diaz, is here:



Diaz has work in {isacoustic*}, here:



Andrew and Donora Rihn have work up at The Mantle, here:



see their work in {isacoustic*} here:



David Bankson has a poem on page 58 of Artifact Nouveau, here:


you can check out Bankson’s work in {isacoustic*}, here:



persons Donora A. Rihn and Andrew Rihn, poems

Donora A. Rihn is the author of Jeff Bridges (Cobalt Press, 2016), The Plagiarist (NEA, 2015), The Aphasia Poems (S▲L, 2014), and several other books and works of poetry and theory. Andrew Rihn is a writer of poems, essays, and articles including the book America Plops and Fizzes (sunnyoutside press, 2011). Together, they authored the protest poem cycle The Marriage of Heaven and Hell: An Election Cycle (Moria Books/Locofo Chaps, 2017). They share a tiny house in the Portage Lakes area of Ohio along with their two rescue dogs.


Donora A. Rihn

from Son

I like to think that it would have been possible, as if on a given
day I don’t only produce blood,
phlegm, panic. I look down
at my hands, the clots on them.
This is a coping mechanism not
afforded to your species, and that
the better for it; as if I could not
think about meeting your father
sooner, when we just looked down
at the tables, the indelible sad
weight of the other people we were
with, the other people we were.
If only we could have looked up,
seen you there. He in his brown
sweater. I would have found his eyes, and he would have known.
You are ours now. We would have kept you the way I wanted my mother to keep me, a warmth worth any degree of ache, grateful.


Andrew Rihn and Donora A. Rihn

~~To Wait for the Rifle to Come

Collect with me,
Patron Saint of
the Easily Overwhelmed,

Invoke this cryptic earth,
bulldozed and dug.
A grocery list for the cataclysm,
petition of the tersest language.
This manifest is pure; the fire,

What is an opening,
sometimes, must
also be a closing.