Chris Jeffris Lighthouse Its column of stone, its glass eye, unfazed by storms— not like power lines and hearts. Chris Jeffris is a retired critical nurse living in Malaga, Washington who tries really hard to stay out of trouble–usually successfully.
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F. John Sharp “Nebraska”
F. John Sharp Nebraska A flock of cranes cruises low over the dusty prairie, elevating in time to miss an abandoned windmill, wing-wind spinning it briefly, causing nearby cattle to raise their thirsty heads in forgotten anticipation. F. John Sharp lives and works in Northeast Ohio, where sports teams go to die, and swears that […]
Read MoreLaura Vogt “regret (noun): a time traveler”
Laura Vogt regret (noun): a time traveler Somewhere in time there’s an embodiment of me: silent, watchful, waiting on yesterday’s sunrise. Laura Vogt likes to tell stories but preferably not biographical ones about herself.
Read MoreH. Edgar Hix “Seeking the Horizon”
H. Edgar Hix Seeking the Horizon My eyes thirsty for sunshine; the farm thirsty for rain. H. Edgar Hix is sitting in Minnesota this winter, growing older with that plodding rapidity only old age can achieve.
Read MorePhilip Venzke “What is Regeneration?”
Philip Venzke What is Regeneration? Learning to escape by breaking off the end of your fail. Philip Venzke milked cows on a dairy farm near Colby, Wisconsin.
Read MoreJon Densford “French I Took/Thanks Sam Cooke”
Jon Densford French I Took/Thanks Sam Cooke Given that high school was all about biology (but not so much Biology) whispering ‘je t’aime” made it a wonderful world for me. Jon Densford has long enjoyed tinkering with words but finds that innocent wordplay can at times become an angry scuffle.
Read MoreJon Densford “Autocorrect Hates Me”
Jon Densford Autocorrect Hates Me Oh why, Dearest Autocorrect, do you want to change my “words” to “wounds?” Jon Densford has long enjoyed tinkering with words but finds that innocent wordplay can at times become an angry scuffle.
Read MoreCorey Mesler “From Canada”
Corey Mesler From Canada Most of my large family are Canadian, burly men who drank beer and curled or played hockey, and comely women, who were mostly wives and mothers, a strain of neuroses running through them like fat marbling a cut of beef, and I’ve often wondered how I came from such a clan, […]
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