boeing 737-900 from oregon to minnesota, 6:35am by Everix Machan

boeing 737-900 from oregon to minnesota, 6:35am

forehead against frost-blossoming windows
headphones rattling against glass, tapping
faster than a sewing machine’s needle &
silence descends despite the flickering light strip
i wonder how to compose poetry about
something other than dying or isolation
so i don’t mention the ancient craftsmanship
of land felted in dirt—instead i watch as
quilted velvet pinks & greens drape softly
over 1700 miles of rolling cleaved farmland
surged together by pavement & rushing water
gleaming silver seams sundering the land
like carved edges of softened fondant
i don’t point out how the mountains look
like styrofoam box corners buried in cotton
surrounded by lakes of ripped tin foil &
buildings scattered like spilled shards of glass
littering the only home we’ll ever know
i watch the sun kiss the snow with blush-orange
& imagine sitting cross-legged on the plane wing
reaching out to carve my fingertips through
the mist of early morning over the peaks
but a migraine is blooming in my temples,
sleep staining the underside of my eyelashes
bluer than stirring night skies in april—your
knee is centimeters from mine and yet i just
can’t tell you to look how the lakes look like
spilled mercury burrowing into the earth
so maybe this is more about being alone
than i ever intended it to be

*

Everix Machan (he/him) is a queer, transgender, and autistic undergraduate poet from Wisconsin. You can find his poetry published or forthcoming in None of the Above, DYONYZINE, Flowermouth Press, The Gentian, Yīn Literary, The Sandy River Review, The Branches, and The Rebis.

Pride by Irene Axel

Pride

There is a gentle glow

that comes of

a task well done

or a song well sung

or accomplishing

what you set out to do

or even—

accomplishing what you didn’t.

When they talk about a coming out

as if it’s a singular occurrence,

they usually mean

to those important to you,

such as your parents.

I’ve had an equal number of crushes

on boys and girls

(then men and women)

over the years,

and you would think

my parents would have noticed.

And they probably did,

but if it didn’t fit

their view of me,

then it didn’t happen.

So when I “liked”

my friend,

named for a flower,

and to me—

in my hormone haze—

as beautiful as one,

especially

when she sweat enough

that her glasses slid down her nose

in chemistry class

and she tried and failed

to blow the tendrils

of hair

off her sticky forehead,

and we went on outings

and hung out

and talked about our hopes and dreams,

and then tried

to keep in touch

through college

and the military,

until she got married

and changed her name

(the first one too),

and I hoped she was happy,

and what was left in my chest

for her

was aching

for a different life

where we may

have been together.

And later,

when I brought home a man

and we hung out

and talked about our hopes and dreams

and kept in touch—

but even then,

to me,

he was only ever

a friend.

My mom—

drunk again—

told me she was so glad

I hadn’t “turned out” gay.

And into my stunned disbelief

(which shouldn’t have contained surprise,

but did)

she walked this back

by saying,

“That would make life harder for you,”

as if

my life wasn’t made hardest

by her

and her lack

of ability

to see me.

So when I tell my friends

in passing conversation,

or when I talk with my husband

casually

about the people

I’ve dated,

and he responds

with neutral pronouns,

or when I sing

a love song in public

and leave the words alone,

letting she stay she,

these small moments

are flashes of fireflies

coming together to glow.

And while I never confronted my mom—

which honestly

would never have been received,

since she had already

made up her mind about me—

the smaller moments

of choosing authenticity

with people

who actually matter

feel

like

Pride.

*

Irene Axel is a California based poet whose work explores the complexity of loving those who hurt us. This is her first publication.

ONE ART’s June 2026 Reading for Pride Month

ONE ART’s June 2026 Reading for Pride Month

Date: Sunday, June 7
Time: 2pm Eastern

Duration: 2 hours

Featured Poets: Julie Weiss, Ren Wilding, Nicole Caruso Garcia, Moudi Sbeity, Abby E Murray, Kai Coggin

>> Register Here <<

(donations appreciated)

~ About Our Featured Readers ~

Kai Coggin (she/her) is the Inaugural Poet Laureate of Hot Springs, AR, and a recipient of a 2024 Academy of American Poets Laureate Fellowship. She is the author of five collections, most recently Mother of Other Kingdoms (Harbor Editions, 2024). Her work has been published in TIME MagazinePOETRY, Academy of American Poets, American Poetry Review, Best of the Net, Prairie Schooner, and elsewhere. Coggin is a Certified Master Naturalist, a K-12 Teaching Artist in poetry with the Arkansas Arts Council, a CATALYZE and INTERCHANGE Grant Fellow from the Mid-America Arts Alliance, and host of the longest running consecutive weekly open mic series in the country—Wednesday Night Poetry.  www.kaicoggin.com

Nicole Caruso Garcia (she/her) is the author of OXBLOOD (Able Muse Press), which received the International Book Award for narrative poetry. Her work appears in Crab Orchard ReviewLightMezzo CamminONE ARTPlumeRattleRHINO, and elsewhere. Her poetry has received the Willow Review Award, won a Best New Poets honor, and has been nominated multiple times for the Pushcart Prize and Best of the Net. She is an associate poetry editor at Able Muse and served as an executive board member at the annual conference, Poetry by the Sea. Visit her at nicolecarusogarcia.com.

Abby E. Murray (they/them) is the editor of Collateral, a literary journal concerned with the impact of violent conflict and military service beyond the combat zone. Their first book, Hail and Farewell, won the Perugia Press Poetry Prize and was a finalist for the Washington State Book Award, while their second book, Recovery Commands, won the Richard-Gabriel Rummonds Poetry Prize and was released by Ex Ophidia Press in 2025. For now, they live in the Pacific Northwest and teach writing to military officers.

Moudi Sbeity is a Lebanese-American poet, author, and contemplative educator. Born in Texas and raised in Lebanon, he moved to the United States at the age of eighteen as an evacuee following the 2006 July war. In Utah, Moudi founded and operated Laziz Kitchen, a Lebanese restaurant celebrated by the New York Times as “the future of queer dining.” Moudi was also a named plaintiff in Kitchen v. Herbert, the landmark case that brought marriage equality to Utah and the 10th circuit states in 2014. A lifelong stutterer, he is passionate about writing and poetry as practices in fluency and self-expression. His memoir, Habibi Means Beloved (University of Utah Press), and poetry collection, Alhamdulillah Anyway (Fernwood Press), are set to be published in the fall of 2026.

Julie Weiss (she/her) is the author of The Places We Empty (Kelsay Books, 2021), her debut collection, and two chapbooks, The Jolt and Breath Ablaze: Twenty-One Love Poems in Homage to Adrienne Rich, Volumes I and II (Bottlecap Press, 2023 and 2024). Her second collection, Rooming with Elephants, was published in 2025 by Kelsay Books. “Poem Written in the Eight Seconds I Lost Sight of My Children” was a finalist for Best of the Net. She won Sheila-Na-Gig´s editor´s choice award for “Cumbre Vieja” and was a finalist for the Saguaro Prize. Her work appears in Chestnut Review, MER, ONE ART, Up the Staircase Quarterly, and Variant Lit, among others, and is forthcoming in Cider Press Review, Cimarron Review, The Indianapolis Review, and SWWIM. She lives with her wife and children in Spain. You can find her at https://www.julieweisspoet.com/.

Ren Wilding (they/them) is a trans, queer, neurodivergent poet. They are the author of Trans Artifacts: Bones Between My Teeth (Porkbelly Press, 2026) and Trans Archeology (Lily Poetry Review, 2027). Their work appears in Braving the Body (Harbor Editions), Nixes Mate, ONE ART, Palette Poetry, and elsewhere. They were a finalist for Lily Poetry Review’s Paul Nemser Prize, are a two-time Pushcart nominee, and are co-curator of the Words Like Blades reading series. They hold an MA in Literature and Gender Studies from the University of Missouri and live in St. Louis.

ONE ART’s End-of-Pride-Month But Not End of Pride Reading

Join ONE ART’s EIC Mark Danowsky and poet Alison Lubar as they host queer poets from ONE ART’s archives and the Philly poetry scene for an end-of-pride-month, but not end of Pride celebration! Poets will begin their set with a poem by a LGBTQIA+ predecessor of their choosing, then read their own work. All proceeds from the event will be donated to the Trans Lifeline.

***

ONE ART’s End-of-Pride-Month But Not End of Pride Reading
Co-hosted by Alison Lubar
Monday, June 30
6:00-8:00pm Eastern
Featured Poets: Jennifer Espinoza, Sean Hanrahan, m. mick powell, Amy Beth Sisson, Louisa Schnaithmann, Nicole Tallman, Abby E. Murray

>>> Tickets Available <<< (Free! Donations appreciated.)
Please note: All proceeds from the event will be donated to the Trans Lifeline.

***

About Our Co-Host:

Alison Lubar (they/themme) teaches high school English by day and yoga by night. They are a queer, nonbinary, biracial Nikkei femme whose life work has evolved into bringing mindfulness practices to young people. They’re the author of two full-length poetry books, The Other Tree, winner of Harbor Editions’ Laureate Prize (forthcoming September 2025), and METAMOURPHOSIS (fifth wheel press, 2024), as well as four chapbooks. Find out more at http://www.alisonlubar.com/ or on Twitter @theoriginalison.

About Our Featured Poets:

Jennifer Espinoza (she/her) is a poet whose work has been featured in Poetry Magazine, the American Poetry Review, The Rumpus, Poem-a-day @poets.org, and elsewhere. She is the author of I’m Alive / It Hurts / I Love It (Big Lucks), THERE SHOULD BE FLOWERS (The Accomplices) and I Don’t Want To Be Understood (Alice James Books). She holds an MFA in poetry from UC Riverside and currently resides in California with her wife, poet/essayist Eileen Elizabeth, and their cat and dog.

Sean Hanrahan (he, him, his) is a Philadelphian poet originally hailing from Dale City, Virginia. He is the author of the full-length collections Safer Behind Popcorn (2019 Cajun Mutt) and Ghost Signs (2023 Alien Buddha), and the chapbooks Hardened Eyes on the Scan (2018 Moonstone) and Gay Cake (2020 Toho). His work has also been included in various anthologies and journals. He has taught classes titled A Chapbook in 49 Days, Ekphrastic Poetry, Poetry Embodied, and has hosted and read at poetry events throughout Philadelphia. He can be found on Instagram as gaycakepoet.

m. mick powell (they/she) is a poet, professor, artist, Aries, and the author of threesome in the last Toyota Celica and other circus tricks and DEAD GIRL CAMEO, forthcoming from One World Books this August. Find them on all social media platforms @mickmakesmagic.

Amy Beth Sisson (she/her) lives near the skunk cabbages in a town outside of Philly. She is a winner of the Mendelssohn Chorus of Philadelphia’s Joyful Abundance: Emerging Artist Commissioning Program, 2025. Amy Beth is a Special Projects Editorial Assistant for Fence Publishers and a former Associate Artist with the Institute for the Study of Global Racial Justice.

Louisa Schnaithmann (she/her) is a relentlessly bisexual poet who is the author of Plague Love (Moonstone Press, 2021). Her work has appeared in Anti-Heroin Chic, The Summerset Review, SWWIM, and elsewhere. She is the consulting editor for ONE ART: a journal of poetry and lives in southeastern Pennsylvania. You can order a copy of Plague Love here.

Nicole Tallman (she/her) lives in Miami, where she serves as the official Poetry Ambassador. She is the author of four poetry books including her most recent, Dolce Vita/Let There Be a Little Light. She is also a Poetry and Interviews Editor for South Florida Poetry Journal and The Blue Mountain Review. Find her most recent poems in Poetry Magazine, Poet LorePleiades, and ONLY POEMS. Find her on social media @natallman and at nicoletallman.com.

Abby E. Murray (they/them) is the editor of Collateral, a literary journal concerned with the impact of violent conflict and military service beyond the combat zone. As a nonbinary pacifist married to a cis-gender active duty army officer, they’ve spent their adult life writing and researching the struggle for voice and listening between disparate communities. Their first book, Hail and Farewell, won the Perugia Press Poetry Prize and was a finalist for the Washington State Book Award, and their second book, Recovery Commands, won the Richard-Gabriel Rummonds Prize from Ex Ophidia Press and has been nominated for the National Book Award. Abby served as the 2019-2021 poet laureate for the city of Tacoma, Washington, and currently teaches writing to Army War College fellows at the University of Washington. 

Six Poems by Ethel Rackin

Pride

Some things go with it—
the anxious stares
the desire to attenuate things—
so that a flower in a vase
stands just
as it is
as long as it is
invisibly and because.

*

The Color of Trees

All these creatures filled
with petrified wood
as I am—little bird—
as I am—snow-filled skull—
ornamental nightingale—
so my early years and late
stretch in a thin line—
break and breathe—
as trees thrown by a river
rise—what’s the difference
bird—call me if you need
any 200-year-old trees.

*

Frets

The forest will take you—
you with your sudden
aching parts
your steely starts
and uneven gait
your unconscious fits—
don’t fret, Friend, walk—
something will roll you
something will lift you up
as if by wind—
a frond.
A river walk.

*

Idyll

Something it is that hangs
on the backs of bushes—
laundry-line or vine, half-
occluded woodbine—
or those rotten birches—
the hollow ones—now
that we’ve become
no more useful to them
than this unpredictable sun.

*

Another Summer

Dogs walked the streets
trees snuck behind shadows
the world was an alley
in my heart a tune played
ice fell and melted
large drinks were served
these were the salad days
but we didn’t yet know it
we were so busy counting
our private miseries
our secret wishes.

*

Remains

What remains in my notebook
now that the day is done
here on this sick planet
I think I’ll pour another
look up at the dim
stars—for tonight
they’re on fire.

*

Ethel Rackin is the author of three books of poetry: The Forever Notes (Parlor Press, 2013), Go On (Parlor Press, 2016), and Evening (Furniture Press, 2017). Her new text, Crafting Poems and Stories: A Guide to Creative Writing, is forthcoming from Broadview Press. Poems are forthcoming in Allium, Colorado Review, and Guesthouse.