Scott Hughes Death of a Song As I drive, a bird flies under my tire, and I feel its bones shatter and wonder what songs it was meant to sing. Scott Hughes has a book, The Last Book You’ll Ever Read, forthcoming from Weasel Press. https://www.writescott.com/
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Eduardo Frajman “Old man with mutt”
Eduardo Frajman Old man with mutt The old man shrugs when I ask what breed is his dog and deadpans in a Balkanic accent, “I keep asking him Who is your father? He doesn’t say.” Eduardo Frajman lives in Evanston, Illinois.
Read MoreFrederick Charles Melancon “Before Coffee”
Frederick Charles Melancon Before Coffee Morning clouds in mental confusion only called fog for being close to the ground. Frederick Charles Melancon is tired and just needs five more minutes.
Read MoreRose Menyon Heflin “Isaac and Eve”
Rose Menyon Heflin Isaac and Eve The apple falls from Eve’s lips, onto Isaac’s head, giving birth to modern physics. Rose Menyon Heflin loves WI, but dreads the winter.
Read MoreD.A. Donaldson “Serial”
D.A. Donaldson 1 Light is first, with its brilliant and blinding revelation of anything other than nothing, and unformed eyes that never beheld so much as a candle wait patiently in the wings of creation. 2 Waters split the firmament, dividing heaven from earth in a splashy feat of parting here from… there. 3 The […]
Read MoreNancy Kay Peterson “The Art of Politics”
Nancy Kay Peterson The Art of Politics I don’t know any Republican poets. Nancy Kay Peterson usually finds humor in one sentence but occasionally takes a serious turn.
Read MoreWendy Cobourne “Meltdown”
Wendy Cobourne Meltdown I want to dissolve like a stray ice cube thawing on the counter, unnoticed. Wendy Cobourne is a journalist and college writing tutor whose poetry and short stories have appeared in several print and online literary journals, including One Sentence Poems.
Read MoreJames Owens “Far”
James Owens Far He sees it is hard now not to be scattered among shadows, and the memory of voices that calls him back also calls him away, as broken as the air broken into snow or weeping now and hands heavy with broken sunlight, hands full of shards. James Owens has published three books […]
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