I Don't Burn
by Kevin Young

Dear Darkness--consider this
my last attempt

to reach you. My previous
few missives

having boomeranged back
unread, postmarks blurred

by the gloved hands
that tried carrying

them to your door.
Or, torn

by the machines.
I wish

you could see the water
here, so clear

you can see the bottom--
though that's nothing

new for me. All afternoon
I let sun seep

my skin, steep me
like strong tea.

Despair,
if you've moved

I wish you would
send word

or ring.
How I would sing

like a kettle to keep you.


Read more in Issue 5

Fiction Cattle Haul by Jesmyn Ward
IYSSSS Off the Page and onto the Sidewalk by Roland Kelts
Poetry I Don't Burn by Kevin Young
IYSSSS At-Talifoon by Zoe Ferraris
IYSSSS Shark Means Knife by Ian Chillag
Fiction The Rat Ship by Ernst Weiss
Essay Secessionville by Samantha Hunt
Essay Morphology of the Hit by Leslie Jamison
Fiction The Old Man by James Lasdun
IYSSSS The Revenge of the Angry Black Artist by Jervey Tervalon