by Jason Grant The entire king-sized bed is mine now, but I can’t seem to move from the left side to the right because on the nights you were here—laying there—if I dared move from my side to yours in the middle of the night it was like I-was-crossing-some-boundary you-needed…
by Ann Minoff on the corner of rush and walton an incandescent bridge between the two halves of my mind momentarily shines as families crowd the stores carrying packages for their holiday tree my new grandson, daughter beside me when this intergalactic nexus flashes through the cheeriness and epidemic stimulation…
by Ann Minoff like my mother when I eat food remains on the corners of the mouth most fingers and pants especially the black pair I wear all the time, crumbs on the chair and floor she wore animal prints leopard spots on her blouses skirts, pants, and shoes, even…