New Jersey.

by David Hancock

Nanny Six loved raw beef. Liked how it felt at the back of her throat. Some rotavirus in the blood puffed her vocal cords. Made her sound like a tro...

Air Show.

by Andrea Grassi

Four jets shake the skyline. Peijui, VP of Development, watches everyone from his King St. location run to the south windows to see a barrel roll—pa...

How You Sleep at Night.

by Patrick Roesle

The regularity and assuredness of the nine-to-five workweek was never something to which you had to resign yourself. On the contrary, you found it a...



by Bardia Sinaee

  Evenings in the Timmy’s near Kipling: privy to breakups, meltdowns, stock tips whispered through wax paper cups and fidgety glances from the ...

Cover Letter.

by Marcus McCann

  A graceful arrangement of the baubles of your enthusiasm. Why you matter, retail. An explanation of how you were gingerbreaded from the dough...

Inclined to Moon.

by Sandra Lloyd

  We saw a particular moon on a particular morning and rated both moon and morning poem-worthy although I don’t, as a rule, assemble collection...

Two Poems.

by Peter Norman

  THE HABIT What germ lodged in marrow drives the jaw to clench? My left-hand pinkie gets it worst, bowed from the upper knuckle, wimpled in a ...

Three Poems.

by Ben Ladouceur

  OX That was our last unripe year, rib cages bald, bright and evermore palpable. The county’s only faggot bar had just swapped its signage fro...

Two Poems.

by Jessica Comola

  I SAW A SWAN COME OUT OF THE WATER   I. Rings are the easiest things to steal. I had to ask a man to stop taking pictures. One time I sa...

I Remember.

by Souvankham Thammavongsa

  I remember Hopscotch and roller-skates. I remember when my father learned to roller-skate. He fell on his right cheek and it turned plum-purp...


by Rodney Wilhite

  Windshields shatter easily with only a small chip of her mother’s broken porcelain. People often leave emergency twenties in the glovebox. He...


by Finn Harvor

  1. lootenant sed to sarge sum bad guyz r still in da ville so sarge told da patrol u gotta shoot ta kill   2. da phos4us iz pretty when ...



“What a Poem Can Do”: An Interview with Matthew Tierney and Mathew Henderson.

by E Martin Nolan

  Mathew Henderson is the author of The Lease (Coach House Books, Fall 2012) and is a recent graduate of the University of Guelph’s MFA program. Originally from Prince Edward Island, he now lives in Toronto, writes about the prairies and teaches at Humber College. Matthew Tierney is the author of three collections of poetry, including The Hayflick Limit (Coach House Books), which was shortlisted for a Trillium Book Award. His most recent book, titled Probably Inevitable, considers the science and philosophy of time. It was released in Fall 2012 from Coach House Books. He lives in Toronto. This interview took place on December 20th at The Free Times Café on College Street in Toronto. It was edited for clarity, and a few follow-up questions and answers were added after the fact.   EMN: Let’s begin with readings. You two went on a little tour to promote your new books. …...