Category: WINTER 2012


    POETRY Kristin Abraham Becca Barniskis Allie Marni Batts Amanda Cobb Patricia Caspers Bianca Diaz Mercedes Lawry Abbie J Leavens Joseph Millar Joel Peckham Dan Pinkerton Diana M. Raab Robin Richardson Brook J Sadler Barry Seiler James Valvis Pui Ying Wong FICTION Peter DeMarco | Eva Jablow | Mellinda Hensley | Vito J. Racanelli NONFICTION Tim Bass | Jim Krosschell […]

  • Joseph Millar

    POEM OF EXPERIENCE “I will never again write from personal experience.” – Lynn Emanuel If they keep on with their unstable muttering, chipping away at the worn first person who’s now pulling weeds outside in the garden or leaning its ladder against the garage, maybe no one else will show up in sneakers and old hat […]

  • Cinthia Ritchie

    COMMUNION You began with a glass of wine, thick and dark and rich, the night J and I camped up in the mountains, so far north we walked right up to the snow, even though it was the middle of summer. Later, when he leaned toward me, I heard a wolf howl and knew instinctively […]

  • Becca Barniskis

      _______________________________________________ Becca Barniskis lives in Minnesota where she works as a teaching artist, free-lance writer and consultant in arts education. She’s the Associate Editor at the Teaching Artist Journal and co-authored “The Teaching Artist Handbook” (Columbia College Chicago Press, Spring 2013). She received her MFA in Creative Writing from the University of Oregon. Her […]

  • Kristin Abraham

    THE AFFAIR (SPRING) Her whole body was one bone, a curved rib. Clarity was elsewhere, afterward, after the story rolled over in its sleep, when everything spilled across the table (in her center, where you wouldn’t expect it). Then she was a jar, upset: I’m learning that innocence again. My ear is stuffed with it. […]

  • Pui Ying Wong

    NOVEMBER AND THE MUSIC BOX The field is ready for winter, when it sleeps it won’t get enough as if something fierce in the ground is pulling it down to its core, then the wind will be homeless and can’t hear its own crackling in the cornstalks, the flowering wheat, and my silence will be […]

  • Robin Richardson

    THORA AT THIRTEEN She wants a ghost or more a pooka: horse whose hooves lead steady to the cliff. Uneasy ‘cause she can’t get off on flesh alone, such stone, those statues slack beside the crosswalk, not fumbling, troubled, only form: heavy-ordered in its place. In museums, dressed as a peasant, she sketches fauna, brushes […]

  • Mercedes Lawry

    REPLICA  What is the cost of the unhinged howls of those without hope, the sodden allegory laid plain on the kitchen table, nothing gussied up or named with a false rhyme. Bleak hearts brim with greed like a scatter of red ants at a massacre. This curious geography does not align with stars. Mourning is […]

  • Vito J. Racanelli

    THE NIGHT BEFORE Kristi laid out her long white dress on the bed and smoothed it with the back of her right hand. She ran her fingers along the fabric from top to bottom a few times. The cut was a little puffier in the arms than she’d wanted, but she hadn’t had much time […]

  • Eva Jablow

    LIFE IN TERMS The first is blonde and I am sixteen. We see a scary movie I don’t remember the title of. I am not old enough, so we buy tickets to March of the Penguins and sneak in to the scary one. I am embarrassed by this, but he doesn’t seem to mind. He […]