Category: January 2012

  • Cynthia Cruz

    STRANGE GOSPELS I drove for days through the desert Medicine or memory Talking to me. Thin on illness and my life And what the trucker and those Other men did. Not human what I am now: the blonde Mute. And I’ll never Get out of this. _____________________ From the collection, The Glimmering Room. Reprinted with […]

  • Mira Martin-Parker

    YOUR NAME HERE It wasn’t sudden, the turn, the disappearance. After all, she lived next door. Moved in about 10 years ago. Only went out on occasion. And yet there was something terribly sad about the whole thing. The color of her eyes, the in-betweenness of it all. Bound to be taken advantage of. By […]

  • Mark Willen

    WALK-INS WELCOME I walk down eight stairs and back four decades to get to my barbershop. The shabby door with the wire grille always sticks, and it takes a good shove to get it open, but I’m rewarded with the tinkle of the tarnished brass bell that is attached. No electric eye here. I peer […]

  • Kirsti Sandy

    VOODOO ECONOMICS  In my sophomore year of college, I worked at six different stores, all in the same mall. I started at the Deb store, which was a mirrored square of a room with a purple rug and unflattering bluish light. I was told that a strobe light had once hung from the wall, until […]

  • Caru Cadoc

    THE CHILDREN’S ALAMO “These crates,” Steven shifted in the dim light, “really dig in.” He leaned back against the plastic wall and started tossing an apple from hand to hand. Klara looked up at the roof—just three old doors they’d laid across walls of plastic crates. She listened to the apple tapping in his hands. […]

  • William Doreski

    AFTER WALKING AROUND THE RESERVOIR Pizza in dislocated dark. Small pies blush from the oven like cow flops fresh from the cow. You grimace at my simile but it amuses you. The shrug of your priceless hairdo betrays you. Strictly a local effect, the moon drapes in the trees like a rag. The blue shirt […]

  • Patty Somlo

    SLOW SWALLOWING The water tasted chalky and warm. Eying the second hand of her watch, Mary Beth swallowed and waited. She’d been practicing slow swallowing, convinced that it would make her lose more weight. She wasn’t hungry, she reminded herself, trying to ignore the gurgling sounds her stomach was making. Mary Beth had gotten down […]

  • Aditi Rao

    SOMETIMES, YOU MUST TALK AROUND THE ELEPHANT IN THE ROOM Of course, smalltalk is always the hardest – not everyone cares that the pink in Buenos Aires houses used to be cow blood. Or that human tongues consist of sixteen muscles. Or that head lice can neither jump nor fly. Or even that you are […]

  • Bruce Bond

    FOUR PRELUDES FOR THE CHOIR OF THE WELLS 1. We all walk on water, now and then, though it takes the eyes of wells to see it. When a man’s sleep breaks in half, he steps drunkenly across the blackened surface. Father, are you there.  Can you answer. Forever a depth that sings beneath our […]

  • Francis Raven

    June 28 Set piece: laughter, Noah kicking on top of the picnic table. I’m jumping in the water, but it’s colder than the day before. I have my suit on And there’s a picture from yesterday That captures it better, better than it could be captured In the moment. Something is probably eaten, a potato […]