deb y felio One Night I lie here beside you listening to the thunder and remember the conference last week in New Orleans where I ran into an old dear friend, and we spent the one free evening dining and drinking then returning to his room to talk about old times and our strong desire […]
Read MoreSteve Klepetar W. S. Merwin I knew a man who transcribed the wind who etched its song onto rock ledge and cliff as he sat quietly by a window in the sun his lightning eyes burning the world to ash. Steve Klepetar has a heart too soon made glad, too easily impressed.
Read MoreSteve Klepetar Will You? If the wave gathering strength over the western sea churns, builds, rises above coastal cities like a giant hand, if it roars us into deafness or shines like a blinding wall, will you stand with me on the cliff’s bare face to watch the old world drown? Steve Klepetar has a […]
Read MoreRaymond Luczak Bump in Front of Mrs. Kichak’s House Whenever I raced down on my banana bike, I always swerved around it— it was a landmark of sorts, nameless and unmapped yet easily identifiable from the kitchen window overlooking Oak Street, so when I heard the city of Ironwood had slit open that bump to […]
Read MoreHannah Mahoney Bloopers I watched one of those video compilations of summer mishaps—kiddie pools and diving boards and water slides and someone going to jump dive slide swim and ending up all wonky—and laughed once or twice in spite of myself, but lingering afterward is that moment when things change from fun to not, and […]
Read MoreMark Jackley My Father Is Drinking Gin and Reading a Detective Novel Eyes closed, paperback pressed against his chest, he is breathing slowly in the dark as mysteries whisper through his Banlon shirt into his unsolved heart. Mark Jackley‘s poems have appeared in Sugar House Review, Fifth Wednesday, The Cape Rock, Talking River, and other […]
Read MoreLillian Hallberg Conundrum I wonder, if we turn our clocks back one hour, will our shadows lag behind? Lillian Hallberg, dean emeritus of an MBA program, enjoys reading, writing poetry, trave, and living in Boston.
Read MoreMike Wahl COD Purchased in good faith by accountability and an astute understanding of life, he bought the farm. Mike Wahl finds an occasional smile abandoned by the roadside as litter.
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