By Keith Burton i was stretching my legs on the littoralgiving names to the shapes of the cloudsthat swam across the lake’s reflectionwhen trouble came crawling on eight legs. help me across he asked with a period. i knew better; i had an owl’s acuity.no can do, i know you…
by Aline Pusecker Taylor Leaves swirl over ribboned bark grayed and grooved. Glint of flint! Blaze ablaze! The witch needs a fix a mix of hazelnut and cream a dream, caffeine Brew to shrew. Ding-dong, the witch is dead
by Aline Pusecker Taylor At night when I’m alone I ponder aneurisms blood clots and flesh eating bacteria how I like my legs and want to keep them attached to the rest of my body. Aspirin and Neosporin arm the coffee table weapons in an invisible war fought mostly in…