Alan Toltzis Cutting Jasmine Open edges weeping, clutter of bud, leaf, and twig scatter across walkways, while a clatter of outcry spits fitfully from the mouth of a leaf blower, gusting dust and grit into swirls of tangled sweetness and gas fumes, cuts and nicks already blending in. After a lifetime in Philadelphia, Alan Toltzis […]
Read MoreLarry D. Thomas The Scribe The scribe labored by the light of day or candle, clutching his quill, dipping it in ink and scratching each flawless letter on the skin of sheep or goat, deeding to his craft each grueling decade of his life, his sole extravagance the occasional, well-timed flourish of a letter of […]
Read MoreCyril Wong Childhood My father is divided from me by light and water and when he beckons me into the pool to swim, I almost believe I may reach one foot out across the glassy world and walk on water to him. Cyril Wong is a poet and fictionist in Singapore.
Read MoreSandra S. McRae Timing It is the second to last time I will see her though I don’t know it yet and just as I pull into my mother’s driveway and step out of the car a hundred wild geese skim the sky overhead laboring the air honking and squalling announcing my place in the […]
Read MoreAlisa Golden Don’t Say This Conversation Is Not Impossible I don’t know why this keeps happening, but talking to you is like watching raccoons eat cotton candy, trying to wash it, first. Alisa Golden reads a paper newspaper at breakfast, walks her inner dog daily, edits Star 82 Review, and keeps the nectar bar wellstocked […]
Read MoreSavannah S. Miller Vanilla Latte It’s 9:32 AM on Botetourt St. and my coffee tastes like you: Robust and warm with a bitter end. Savannah S. Miller is a poet, writer, and playwright currently based out of North Carolina. savannahsmiller.com
Read MoreJason Kahler Annunciation My daughter says “Draw me apple tree,” and so I do, on scrap paper with a fading pen, and though I’m no artist, she counts each apple— one hers, one for each brother— as I plant spikey- haired grass, float a fat cloud, and finally, when she grins, it’s like applause in […]
Read MoreJuan Pablo Mobili Spiritual Advice Don’t invite old gods to your tea party they will argue over who created biscuits, they get distracted in the middle of your prayers they don’t know when to retire. Juan Pablo Mobili is a poet and was a gardener. He decided to only prune poems, a long time ago. […]
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