#43: Poetry by Allen Jones
DIGGING WITH MY FATHER When we roll her into the grave, one leg catches on the dark clay, running on alone. The first being to die in my arms, she sits three days before we bury her, death always early. We tie dishtowels around our faces, sling her bloated body into the wheelbarrow, […]
#42: Poetry by Kevin Canfield
NOT THE ANSWER WE WERE EXPECTING Thirty geese in V formation fly South over the gray, stalwart Hudson Squawking manically as they go Wonk! Wonk! Wonk! Whenever I hear this sound I think not of the majesty of The natural world but the kid Who on show-and-tell day Brought to Ms. P’s second-grade Class a […]
#41: Fiction by Jamilla D. VanDyke-Bailey
ON WEDNESDAY WE EAT MEATLOAF She was watching the kitchen faucet’s muted drip when he called. She let the phone ring once, twice, and then silence. It was his way of letting her know that she had thirty-seven minutes to plate his dinner. She sighed and rose from her seat. Out of habit, she smoothed […]
#40: Poetry by Yvonne Higgins Leach
STAGGERING BEES Flowers abandoned at the burial site. The black car doors slam shut. Guests shed their coats and express sympathy, unforgiving of mortality. Platters of cold cuts, homemade salads, store-bought buns and boxed desserts—but I do not want them. Women bring more food: a bowl of olives, cheese and crackers, […]
#39: Poetry by F.J. Bergmann
FACTION variation on a first line by Matt Miller My escape route was endless invention. If one wormhole failed, I’d wait for a new star to collapse and fall into its own black magic. I’d start to gnaw at my molecular bonds, eat my way through another ligature. fj was my favorite; all those […]
#38: Fiction by Nancy Ford Dugan
BELUSHI IN THE BLINDS This is how it begins. You can’t find the new box of saltines, the box only a few hours earlier you had opened, taking a handful of fresh crackers out of the sleeve. Now you’d like a few more, even though you are rationing supplies during “shelter in place,” and it […]
#37: Poetry by William Doreski
TRYSTING BEHIND THE SQUARE A big green trash compactor hogs half the alley, crowding us into the shadows of fire escapes. We have to stop meeting here, concealed from tourists and students prowling for scented candles and clothes that no one should wear. The ramshackle metal siding and greenish board-and-batten cast shade […]
#36: Fiction by Glenn Verdi
THE ARMY YOU HAVE The aquifer dries up and there is no money to dig a new well. The bank in Las Cruces takes the land. Justin’s parents and four siblings pack up and move into town. His father settles for a midnight shift desk clerk job at a motel near the Greyhound station. His […]
#35: Fiction by Benjamin Murray
WALKING SUNSHINE This morning, my fiancée and I take Sunshine for a walk along the river. It’s a quick ten minutes from our apartment, crossing over a couple streets, before descending into the valley where the water’s surface gyrates. We follow her, admiring the sun and the contrails of passing jets. Sunshine struts and waddles […]
#34: Fiction by Maureen Foley
RECIPE FOR A HEALTHY MARRIAGE AFTER LOSING IT ALL White Audi station wagon cocoons me on the freeway. Autopilot to Santa Barbara at 70 miles per hour, no traffic. Infinite gaze of the blue Pacific Ocean in December. Nearly flat today, quiet ripples, small waves like my husband’s love. Seven years together and five years […]