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Truth Thomas fails to win the lottery in Greektown. Jennifer Judge starts to suspect she was always Gretel out in the woods, her father complicit. Blake Z. Rong checks in on us, if only to assuage his own guilt. Symone Henry wants to know whether fish go to hell too. Adedamola Olabimpe asks us not to run, not even when she tells us her father is a mirage dancing in the haze of the heat of her childhood. Cynthia Marie Hoffman pulls her reflection from the drawer like a dark gathering of silk, finding her childhood face woven into the fabric. Yes, Alison Granucci was shot in real life: know that, as you absorb each explosive, hollow tip word. Jenny Qi fills the castle and the moat to feed all our thirsty thirsty ghosts. Woody Woodger warns us that we're on our own if we get in trouble—unless Zachary Kluckman can love us back to earth, every poem a séance. Abdulrazaq Salihu only reads of the dajjal, and this is not a proper way to say he's bald. Brooklyn Saternow stands up and undoes her braids, and we help her untangle the rest. In Alyssa Quinn's bed, the bats are dying, though we feed them sugar water with a syringe. Glenn Cannon are Sunshine: As a teacher once say he are vicious, dark, gloomy boy. Ha ha. Nikki Barnhart reuses an old Advent calendar, though the days are loose from already being pried open. Miah Jeffra pulls us past the fort, past the ridgetop, sticking to the higher ground in case the fugitive spots us first. And Joanna Clapps Herman invites us "up the farm" where Bede lives.