blue heat

at extremes of physical existence, moments where neither scientists nor shamans can predict what will happen next, something unexpected is witnessed in flame that has burned its way through the color spectrum & decided to be blue. this heat demands communion with his brethren, takes on robes of indigo as airy skies do, mirrors the…

Fall Again

Monarchs are migrating once more, and as usual hang in great clusters of orange and black in the same groves their insect ancestors flapped through—purposeful dry leaves on a gusty day, the air a frenzy of handfuls tossed and lifted and carried as colorful and fleeting as childhood memories; my grandmother’s face is a tree…

I walk through a snowy wood

I walk through a snowy wood in search of ambition. Let’s say ambition looks like a gold swan. Let’s say it radiates a perceptible vitality and constantly twinkles. Ice crunches beneath me. My boots are soaked through, feet freezing. The voice of a distant master commands me to endure the harshness of my search which,…

Marie Sklodowska-Curie translates poems about polonium

Scott Ferry helps to heal our Veterans as a RN. His daughter is a purple belt and his wife is a doctor, so he is well protected. Current work can be found in Bitter Oleander, Cobalt, Chaleur, and Scryptic. Photograph by Alex Iby.

Ruins

Mom called my south Albuquerque hotel room, said she wouldn’t allow me to visit. I wasn’t welcome. After traveling all the way from Bellingham, I was only a few miles away from her home. My girlfriend commented, That’s family. Now we’ll get to do more sightseeing. She reluctantly agreed to Santa Fe, but declined Taos,…

[I have conceded every thing]

*Originally appeared on JMWW. Devon Wootten is a faculty member at Whitman College. His work has appeared or is forthcoming in Best American Experimental Writing, Fence, LIT, Aufgabe, and Colorado Review, among others. A former resident of Yaddo and Anderson Ranch, he holds an MFA from the University of Montana and a PhD from the University of Iowa. He lives with…

[N]o matter what [is] involved]

Devon Wootten is a faculty member at Whitman College. His work has appeared or is forthcoming in Best American Experimental Writing, Fence, LIT, Aufgabe, and Colorado Review, among others. A former resident of Yaddo and Anderson Ranch, he holds an MFA from the University of Montana and a PhD from the University of Iowa. He lives with his wife among…

[Reader, let’s neither of us fuck this up]

*Originally published in Posit 15. Devon Wootten is a faculty member at Whitman College. His work has appeared or is forthcoming in Best American Experimental Writing, Fence, LIT, Aufgabe, and Colorado Review, among others. A former resident of Yaddo and Anderson Ranch, he holds an MFA from the University of Montana and a PhD from the University of Iowa. He…

Stop Motion

*“Stop Motion” is in the forthcoming book Give a Girl Chaos (March 15, 2019 from Mastodon Books). Heidi Seaborn is Poetry Editor for The Adroit Journal, a New York University MFA candidate and the author of an award-winning debut book of poetry Give a Girl Chaos (see what she can do) forthcoming in early 2019 from Mastodon Books. Since…

The Misanthropist

Not that he minded coming in out of the rain, shaking water from his boots in the mud room, placing them side by side with the other pairs of slick rubbers, umbrellas left open, set like enormous flower petals upon an oriental rug dirty with its own versions of flowers. Nor did he mind the…

in some future time

What if, for us, there is no dark no cold dripping November spruce, no headstones, not even a name, the seasons saying relent with each drip. What if vetch and sweet pea tire of their work— honeysuckle exhausts its bloom? When the last visitor, a century ago tossed an apple it grew, but now gives…

Cascade Mall Shooting September 23, 2016

1. The day before my son was born my mom, and I took my daughter to the museum for kids. The one in the mall, with the semi-truck busting through the window, and the box of sand underground. 2. I walked the halls of that mall, empty and foreign as my body is now, void…