When you read Lynn Lipinski’s poetry, you sense the command she brings to her poetry, especially in the poetic line. She does not miss an elegiac beat in “Elegy” to her father.

In Brandon Marlon’s poetry a “gnawing angst” permeates his poems about existence. There is not a poem richer than “On the Wings of the Wind” to explore these “depths unfathomed.”

The poet blends narration and metaphor in a morality tale when the roads were supposedly safe but not for “Renee” who was raped by a driver in the woods. The Revolution didn’t happen and they “fled to the suburbs.”

Jacquelyn L.M. Scott bears witness to a woman’s experience being treated for cancer. There is no place to hide from these poems.

Just when you catch the linear threads in Chelsey van der Munnik’s poems— “January, “The Only,” “Told Me”—they shift and pull you in and in.

Takáts Márk retells the myth of Icarus in the poem “The Stars and Icarus,” with an ingenious twist that can’t help but make you laugh at the irony. And in the companion poem “Out of Order”? Oh, the hubris of the poet’s ego.

The pathos in Sarai Seekamp’s trilogy of poems “I Can’t Find My Brother” is apparent on first reading, but read them over and over and you might find yourself weeping.

Jordan Lindsey has a passion for poetic expression, which becomes clear as he blends form and content in one meaningful whole. See: “Swim in the Light.”

Sergio A. Ortiz paints his poetry with recurring images of birds and old trees and abstractions like desperation and desire, or “The roof” to cure loneliness where the poet “loved a man while dancing.”

In the poem “Crossing the Golden Gate Bridge” by Elizabeth Elliott, the driver depends on the cables that hold up the bridge suspended “like belief in a higher power,” but fear of the big earthquake lingers. What then?