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Don’t tell me it’s a miracle— the woman’s mind is gone, a plate God’s licked clean. —Lexi Pelle rattle.com/baby-of-brain-…

John Poch | Rattlecast 298 x.com/i/broadcasts/1…

He walked slowly home, the key back in his pocket, adding more steps as clouds began to darken the afternoon. —Michael Dylan Welch Michael Dylan Welch rattle.com/step-quota-by-…

The night has a thousand eyes, none of which are yours. —Darren Morris rattle.com/a-handbook-for…

grocery aisle his wink fingering the grapes —Valorie Broadhurst Woerdehoff rattle.com/clean-up-on-ai…

Some evenings, when the clouds hang low and wide, I swear the boards breathe once. Then hush. Then hide. —A.Z. Foreman rattle.com/barn-at-the-un…

To mirror the desert, you must wear away. —Talley Kayser rattle.com/advice-to-a-mo…

daily commute … on the train platform butterfly’s mad calculus —Rich Youmans rattle.com/brain-teaser-b…

In one of my lives I slide off the roof like a sheet of ice. In another I was already falling. —Eric Kocher rattle.com/dispatches-fro…

We survivors speak to the dead because the living won’t listen to us. —Bunkong Tuon Bunkong Tuon rattle.com/what-the-war-h…

Yoda Olinyk | Rattlecast 299 x.com/i/broadcasts/1…

If Jesus saves, he must be saving up for something big … —Kim Addonizio rattle.com/reading-the-ti…

At night, sounds come I can never identify. It’s often like that, our long days lacking much of anything that can be named. —Jack Ridl rattle.com/hardship-in-a-…

The Waffle House sign glows neon yellow in my rearview. I can smell the greasy food. A thin crescent moon reaches for Venus, ice against ink. —Sherri Alms rattle.com/last-rodeo-by-…

we are all simmering this summer with a thin metallic taste in our mouths … —Alison Luterman #thisweeklastyear rattle.com/mockingbirds-b…

The world is our whetstone. We shall not rust. —Jeff Knight rattle.com/knives-of-the-…

I stared at the picture on my phone in an Uber for a while after drinking a bunch, and then sat down and wrote this poem when I got home. I think it took me two minutes. I didn't even revise a single line. It all just came to me line by line as if prewritten somewhere in the

i want to weigh as little as the tarp bag full of the bodies of cats i euthanize in the mornings at the shelter —Michael Battisto rattle.com/when-i-didnt-e…

Critique of the Week | July 4, 2025 x.com/i/broadcasts/1…

His face, a flag, fades and folds into what it once was— —Elaine Sexton rattle.com/anthem-by-elai…