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 C.Cimmone Cats made my mother’s skin crawl – at least that’s what she said, anyway. She knew my father welcomed them into our backyard to drag away the fish heads that fell from the fat nails along the Pecan tree after his trips to the river. My mother would…
