Joshua Michael Stewart was born in Sandusky, Ohio, but has lived in western Massachusetts since 1998. He likes to drive throughout New England, where he has (almost) struck a bear, many deer, and a famous folk singer. Joshua’s poems have been published in Georgetown Review, Massachusetts Review, Rattle, William and Mary Review, and Worcester Review. Visit him here.
All work
-
Our fingers trace every curl, every looping /
strand of your script, patient to discover, /
weave ourselves into a braid.
More from The Journal
- Visual Poetry
- Visual Poetry
By Zachary Gambrill
black ink on paper
- Visual Poetry
By Zachary Gambrill
comic book cover
- Postcard Prose
By Lauren Barbato
I’d been thinking about leaving. I’d been thinking how there’s something about out here. Before long it’s a new January and you’re hungover with a heartache for a man you won’t see for several years until he pops up on that very popular, critically-acclaimed sitcom with that actress you learned to like, then hate, then feign indifference abou
- Poetry
The leak in your breathing/
tube makes a cartoon squeak./
It takes two nurses, silent/
as nuns, to place you/
in my arms...
- Poetry
If I have already/
gone insane/
but I want to get/
crazier yet,/
what’s my move?/
Go outsane?
See more
Poetry,
Visual Poetry,
or Postcard Prose