-
Hard stubborn things by Lee Potts
Knowing all about easing soil aside But wanting only water Tree roots tend toward rivers Tip right past what must seem like just more stone All those hard stubborn things That they couldn’t carry, keep, or protect Shards, buckles, rusted blades Plates, cups, combs, coins Once deeply desired, once needed…
-
[let’s take a picture] by Taryn Dixon
let’s take a picture through every season. not just summer fall winter spring but the seasons of us. the good the bad the beautiful the ugly through every drought and every storm— to see how far we’ve come and how far we can go. ____________________________________________________________ Taryn Dixon is a graduate student…
-
Trap Holds by Nick Perilli
The three volunteers who wrap the holds at the library became obsolete, but they wouldn’t leave. With the advent of the new receipt printers, which had the capability to print sticky labels the librarians could just smack onto the materials patrons had put on reserve, the need for Wrappers—for “Rubber-Banders,”…
-
Unturn This Stone by Aviva Treger
On a foul night in fickle early autumn, when the wind sobbed and wailed like a lost wandering wraith, Constance awoke from a garish dream, aghast to hear her garden crashing into the sea. It clattered down the cliff thud by thud into darkness, sodden by the pelting rain and…
-
Shrine by Sarah Etlinger
Dressed in only the shroudof my nakedness,you reach for meas we lie in the bow of night,and you tell meof summeras a teenagerwhen you’d count the hourswith cigarette butts you didn’t even have to sneak because no onewas ever home to see and when you were brave enoughto slink out like…
-
Tonight’s plan by Jacob Fowler
midnight has a fun time stripping memories and turning them into buzzsaws;sometimes these twist-turn recollections prick my fingerand I bleed hot wax, but I always see the windtaunting me like a hearse tonight, the sky is the color of that parking lotwith the potholes that we used to fillup with our…
-
Creative Study: Elisabeth Horan
Artist Statement: Sylvia Plath. Yes. Many people connect with Plath – her words are so fearless, so tragic, so knowing – she was not afraid to say the horrid things – I have always respected her in that – like, she had the courage to say in her poems, the dark…
-
We must obey the tempo by Faye Brinsmead
Come Desdemona: I have but an hourOf love, of worldly matters and direction,To spend with thee. We must obey the time. Her new husband speaks his lines. The liquid vowels melt into dark water. He moves towards her, his red and gold uniform, in the chiaroscuro, exuding the mellow warmth…
-
happy b-day. by Taryn Dixon
I fumble around my spice cabinet for the vanilla I know I bought instead, I find a box of used dusty birthday candles. the ones that are your favorite color. I think about the milk chocolate ganache, dripping from the peanut butter flavored cake I made you and the red candle…
-
transports by e. smith sleigh
in a cityscape a wailing train whistle echoesoff the buildings and concrete it resembles barge horn soundings that bounce off the banks the islands the river inlets the water during the dark of night through the stillness comes the lonely moan of each the sounds evoke a need to escape to flee the agony of misspent time wrong love lost loves regrets turned…
Take Us On A Journey To Somewhen
