Morgan Lael Voicemail from father I’m flummoxed by the blatant disregard for etiquette you showed while eating your McDonald’s fries on Instagram as though your mother didn’t pay three grand and schedule her chemo appointments around your weekly lessons at finishing school to prepare you for just such a moment when you’d be eating without […]
Read MoreJon Densford Sunyata Inside my fortune cookie I find nothing – no paper slip, no words, no winning numbers – nothing but a presence of almonds grown on a rain-soaked hillside. Jon Densford lives in Memphis and has had several poems appear in print and online publications, including his favorites Right Hand Pointing and One […]
Read MoreJ.I. Kleinberg In the unrelenting battle against doggerel and sloth, J.I. (Judy) Kleinberg wields recycle-bin magazines, x-acto knife, and glue.
Read MoreSarah Russell Early Marriage Our fights were a barrage of arrows going to the softest places, as if everything depended on the outcome. M’aidez On this last desperate voyage, in a wreck of broken masts and shredded sails, we founder, sink, don’t realize we’ve drowned until we’re beyond soundings, at fathoms so deep no lead […]
Read MoreTara Roeder 38th Street I mark the scars of long gone trees, palm the walls of memory— linoleum green kitchen, window where Grandpa once asked if I saw the woman outside smiling, dusty room where I first learned what Alzheimer’s meant. Tara Roeder teaches writing in Queens, New York.
Read MoreAngeline Schellenberg Song for Sex Oh, mashup of poetry and friction, all here-ness and bungle, here’s to years of trust, flashes of huzzah, the grudging forgiveness, and the halleluiah. Bathing, Sinking The B&B where I bathed in lavender (before bubbles could make me cry) lies around the corner from the Misery— first syllables of the […]
Read MoreAngeline Schellenberg Last Goodbye You reach over the rail for my hand, smile, and say I love you, Edith and I want to tell you Grandpa, it’s me but my aunt Edie is a beauty, my age in 1977—the year you relive in your mind, so glad your little girl is here. Song for the […]
Read MoreH. Edgar Hix Soldier’s Body A raven pecking at a seedling of somebody’s love. H. Edgar Hix is always impressed by people who will put their lives where their beliefs are, though not always with their beliefs.
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