Howie Good In the Throes of Divination A man not unlike you or even me who is camping overnight in the woods wakes up with a start from a dream of a bear with dripping jaws biting his head to discover a bear with dripping jaws is biting his head. Howie Good says you […]
Read MoreGrant Quackenbush What He Said When I Put Him to Bed Some nights, lying on my back and staring up at this popcorned ceiling in the dark, I’ll think about the date I didn’t ask her out on, and how she has a kid now who’s fifty–five and takes care of her. Grant Quackenbush is from San Diego
Read MoreJessica Isaacs silence He talks constantly, rambling on aimlessly just to fill the silence, because the silence says more than he’s ready to hear. Jessica Isaacs, the founder and co-editor of Dragon Poet Review, an online literary journal (http://dragonpoetreview.com), received the 2015 Oklahoma Book Award for Poetry for her first full-length book of poems, Deep August (Village Books Press, […]
Read MorePeter Venable Motionless, crows eye me from branches and one, on a stump, displays wings—a parasol of sheen in sun’s shaft. Peter Venable has written hundreds of poems over decades, been published elsewhere, sings, writes, counsels, inspires, and is happily married with a fine daughter, son-in-law,and Yeshua.
Read MorePeter Venable The Nazarene eyed the temple and spoke of stones crumbling to dust, of stars dropping like hail on lanes, meadows, trees— the sun black as a crow’s eye. Peter Venable has written hundreds of poems over decades, been published elsewhere, sings, writes, counsels, inspires, and is happily married with a fine daughter, son-in-law,and […]
Read MoreTom Russell Everyone Else Was Buying War Bonds Army patrols from the Frog Pond country school fought Nazis on the prairie at one recess and from high-flying swings at the next. Tom Russell‘s commute to work was roughly a quarter of a million miles over the first 18 years.
Read MoreNelson Ball Ducks Spring rains flood fields —every farm a pond. Nelson Ball, the author of two recent poetry collections from Mansfield Press, lives in southern Ontario, Canada, at the confluence of the Nith and Grand Rivers.
Read MoreSteve Klepetar At the Border As a man crushes his cigarette, a woman holding a child sings a gentle, guttural song in language I don’t understand. Steve Klepetar is a minimalist (sometimes).
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