We’re so excited to welcome you to our first issue that we almost want to skip the introduction & get straight to the poems. However, these pieces are so gorgeous that they deserve a little gushing. When we started up just a few months ago, we weren’t sure how many people would care or submit. We had hopes some of our favorite poets & some lovely poets would send work our way, but we had no idea how enthusiastic & amazing the response would be—we had double-digit submissions in the first day, & ultimately tallied over 150 submissions in our first reading period. We’ve accepted so many brilliant pieces that some had to be pushed back into our second issue! Please accept this issue both as an offering of beauty & an offering of our gratitude. It’s a gift to be a part of such a productive, attentive, & committed poetry community. Now, enjoy the poems which we hope span a wide variety of both content & language. Join Heather-Derr Smith as she tells us the story “of the night you didn’t want to see me/ & I was all alone. Muhammad Ali died & all I wanted was to tell you/ what you already knew,/ like words I took right out of your mouth,/ how love can get up on the count of nine.” Listen to Adam Clay’s hypnotic science: “You can tell firewood is ready to burn by hitting the two pieces together—// if a thud:/ it’s too soon.// In this way, day and night grow closer to one another.” Let Meg Freitag break your heart when she says what we’ve all felt, that “my regrets/ are the size of housecats/ plopped down on the sill.” Let James Kimbrell break your heart again (good thing hearts regenerate like salamander tails, right?): “It/ has stopped existing for me, the grief of others.// No well like farewell. No deeper drink.” We could go on, but we’ll let you go on. Each of these poems & each of these poets is wonderful, & we hope their words live in you the way they’ve been living in us.