by Adonis Diaz When your doctor tells you “It’s time to get back on an antidepressant” You begin to wonder What you did wrong You begin to ask yourself If you can remember a time Where you felt joy Or simply okay You wonder if there was ever a time that you didn’t hear a hollow symphony Of…
by Kevin Casey For just a quarter, the old man would tell your fortune… Summers after supper — curfewed, pent — we’d collapse in a graceless pack on that squalid house, lost in its cedars. Cracked lath spilled from the kitchen’s sagging plaster, and the stained wall’s sconce made stacked…
by Kevin Casey The winter stays put in its corner — an ash bucket, unhandled and dented, hungering for embers the summer stole to paint that sunrise while you slept. The sun rose like a a child’s red spade, and dug its way through apricot and amber, saffron and sand,…