Marsha Burke The Organist The organist rode a red mare, the beads on her blue ball gown bouncing to the tune of horses’ hooves. Marsha Burke is an artist and amateur musician living and working in Ayrshire, Scotland.
Read More05/28/2018 — 0
Poems
05/26/2018 — 0
Alan Toltzis “How to Listen”
Alan Toltzis How to Listen Cover your eyes and listen to the wind, not its complaints unsettling leaves but its stillness— an apology murmuring through pin oaks the moment it subsides. Alan Toltzis (alantoltzis.com), the author of The Last Commandment, lives in Bucks County but likes Los Angeles more.
Read More05/25/2018 — 0
Alan Toltzis “Surely”
Alan Toltzis Surely He bent to her whisper, his posture a devotional. Alan Toltzis (alantoltzis.com), the author of The Last Commandment, lives in Bucks County but likes Los Angeles more.
Read More05/24/2018 — 0
Alan Toltzis “Happiness”
Alan Toltzis Happiness Their house filled with dither and din, misheard repetition, and misrepresentation as if they were on some plaintive search for a key when she remembered hers —buried deep in her pocketbook and he reclaimed his —from the right-hand corner of the mantle— just where they put them (for safekeeping) every day for […]
Read More05/23/2018 — 0
Steve Klepetar “Ballast”
Steve Klepetar Ballast I ride the air balloon of your love, soaring higher and higher as I drop the ballast overboard: my ego, that anvil, that anchor made of lead. Steve Klepetar knows it’s the month before the month of May, and spring comes slowly up this way.
Read More05/22/2018 — 0
Anna Butcher “Someone Collects My Old Self Like It’s Snakeskin”
Anna Butcher Someone Collects My Old Self Like It’s Snakeskin Seven is the number of completion and I have been completed two times shedding off my old selves like snakeskin ghosts waiting to be collected and shown off like, “look at this girl’s mottled mess, I got it at her worst.” Anna Butcher is a […]
Read More05/21/2018 — 0
Hannah Bleier “Guthertz”
Hannah Bleier Guthertz I wish I’d met him after I stopped hating myself, for he was kinder than I was, more easily pleased, and unlike me, comfortable seeming feminine, which made him more masculine as he slowly bit and sucked my lips until they stung slightly, vibrating, his blunt hands warm and strong as we […]
Read More05/19/2018 — 0
Howie Good “Wind Song”
Howie Good Wind Song There’s so much going on here it’s always worth getting out of the car, and if you listen really quietly, you can hear the stream flowing and these people who survived by eating weeds and even talk proudly about it. Howie Good is on the pavement, thinking about the government.
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