The basement suite is leaking in my brain, connectors wet, though advertised brain-tight. My mentor, ice in her cup a rattling rain, from cancer-dark names me formidably brainy. I rustle into the paper bag of childhood, and touch the slick sweet jelly of sour brains. You take my photo on the...
Mackenzie Wiebe is a writer interested in texture, sensation, and ornament. They have an MFA in Creative Writing from the University of Guelph and currently organize the Emerging Writers Reading Series. They have a chapbook with Armistice Press called Wandering Teeth.
Reviewed by Jasmine Ruff Sarah Leavitt, Something, Not Nothing: A Story of Grief and Love (Arsenal Pulp Press, 2024), 152 pp., $27.95. Sarah Leavitt’s Something, Not Nothing is a poignant and raw exploration of grief, art, and joy in the aftermath of tremendous loss. In this collection of short...
I once thought of marriage as an exoplanet in the habitable zone of another star; I knew it was capable of sustaining life, I just didn’t want to live there. I’d taken astronomy lessons from my mom’s copy of Men Are from Mars, Women Are from Venus. How tidy the binary seemed back then, before...
Plenitude Magazine is excited to announce its newest editors! Join us in welcoming Amanda Merpaw and Loch Baillie as our new Associate Poetry Editors, and Joelle Kidd as our new Associate Prose Editor, alongside L’Amour Lisik. With Amanda and Loch coming aboard, we’re sad to say goodbye...
Dear [enter the name you see on your lips, of the poster on your wall, the face on the VHS cover, the girl you swore was just a friend as your mother spins your baseball cap forward and smooths your hair], When you [you, you, and you, too] all dipped your toes in the sparkling pool of traditional...
I have seen Twin Peaks exactly once in my life, in an apparition of a sunroom. ◊ It was like watching dust settle, how bored I was, piecing together why I was here and what I wanted and what this would mean to me in the end. ◊ The hot itch of orange tweed against the backs of my legs, an irritating...
Reviewed by Kegan McFadden Keith Garebian, Stay (JLRB Press, 2024), 85 pp., $19.99. There are books you encounter, on occasion, that leave space for you… space where it can feel like you’re living alongside the poet, their accumulated line breaks and stanzas brush up against your own memories, so...
I am become my grandfather’s ghost: Crumbs over the kitchen sink into eternity The children of hunger, The Daughters Insomniac, Nobody ever loved you like a good pot of stew. My grandfather wore a messenger Hat, a black leather jacket. He is alive now, like a ghost; I, his cool fibers...
