Meditation on Dusk
byThe driven rhythm of crickets behind sporadic croaking of frogs mesmerizes me. Sitting on the steps of my porch, I wonder at the glory…
In the Middle of Remote Places
byLooking into the eyes of a grouse he has just shot, Mike Freeman sees “a brown pupil encased in custard,” an eye that “didn’t…
We Is
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CAUSE WE IS LANGUAGE AND WE IS WORD To talk about the poems in Sami Miranda’s We Is is to talk about a poetry...
Three Poems
byThe Kingdom In constant shiver and hunger in tatters in envy and bliss the kingdom of weeds laps the blond edge…
Playing the Nocturnes: #19 in E minor, Opus Posthumous 71, No. 1: Andante
byBy the time we finally learn, it’s too late: the clock of the body turns over the hours, the days, our faces, like pages…
Hence Smitten
byThis squirrel digs my grave and marks it with an acorn. Years from now, when he’s forgotten all about me, a large tree will…
Seasons of Migration and Change
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Mar Ka’s poetry collection Be-hooved focuses on Alaska. Mar Ka (previously published in literary magazines under the name Mary Kancewick) has spent many years...
Praying the Hours at Elkhorn Slough
byGod. Ocean. Sunrise. Whatever I am sitting here between, hello. *** Sea otter profile: backcurved, hooking the tide. Nothing so distinctive –so joyfully learned,…
Truth or Play
byIt’s sometimes true that poets who write with more abstraction, or at least with a greater theoretical bent, get charged with solipsism, with being…
Single Guiding Stars: An Interview With Rosebud Ben-Oni
byOur interviews editor Esteban Rodriguez talks with Rosebud about her favorite musicians, identity, the place and purpose of literature in today’s socio-political landscape, and…
The Beehive Woman
byThe wise seasoned woman sat on her chair in her bedroom. Her white turban sat on her head like a beehive. I sat on…
The Beautiful, the Good, and the True: Through the Eyes of Lapland Azalea
byThe Beautiful My kayak glided through a narrow canyon, the sandstone walls rising vertically more than sixty feet, speckled with ferns, moss, and fan-shaped…
Origins & Roots
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The bread was changed by breaking. Seven loaves torn became countless pieces. Pieces dissolved in four thousand mouths. Transformed into energy enough. Still they...
Out, Down, Wait, Feel
byThe EcoTheo Review is delighted to feature visual art from C.R. Resetarits, poet, collagist, and fiction writer. On her artistic process, she writes: “I…
God Is The Apple
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How is it possible to write the end of the world? But even this question already reveals an anthropocentric bias. The world, after all,...
Attention To A Shared, Burning World
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Reading M. Stone’s limited-edition chapbook In Wildness and Knox Gardner’s full-length, collaborative art text Woodland alongside each other recalled for me Georgia O’Keeffe’s profound...
Two Poems
byTable, 2 After Milosz An empty table, an empty tavern, that image haunts her departure. Everything else is cheap silverware, finger-marked wine stems. Like…
Three Poems
byCave Cricket Belly-up, splay-legged, bow-backed to the things in the dark: my mother will die, my father, my kid. Licked with dread. What I…
Do You Understand What I Am Saying
byWhat is the process we go through to understand someone or something with a fundamentally different consciousness from ours? This is the question I…
Panthalassa
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The light that hummed in the amniotic sea The algae that latticed itself into Tokyo-sized mats in the shallows The moment the world became...