Kyle Kaczmarick


where they lay

pasteled, framed in oak

they fit convex/


in their bed


damask sheets and

the same sun

across them—

that they cannot

speak or move

the maroon

room, its sole window

channels the off-

canvas sun



They were married

in the lake

the moon

moons across

she could have




y’all both

in a maroon


your window

just so

so daylight


across y'alls


it’s almost

not allowed


An Inconsequential Argument

black cattle moored

in the pasture

yes it was a long drive

up here


I wanted to show you

an important place:

the land funnels

down to the lake


a corrugated moon sometimes


past the barbed wire,


they look so lonely

yes: that’s what I said:

like black skiffs

in a bay

Kyle Kaczmarick is a poet currently pursuing his MFA at the University of Colorado Boulder, where he teaches undergraduate creative-writing. He's from Houston, Texas.

Recent Posts

See All

Sam Bickford

RIP MEEG <3 —and seasons don’t change but bleed through each other—and being in bed is a laxative for risk—and he didn’t sleep—and I try to place that last phone call— and his gravel pitch shifted th

Laura Ohlmann

Wellspring I pour Mom a bath of oatmeal suds and keep my forearm submerged to judge what is too hot and what will soothe her. She needs help taking a bath now. I undress her, the way she once held my

Abigail Swoboda

Video Store Guillotine After the razor nicks the back of my neck, I pet the wound for the rest of the week & I google “horror movie heroine” because I want to be hot as in un-murderable— as in big swe