Motherhood is A Bright Torture By Stephanie Bryant Anderson I have stood at the gates in Leningrad for 17 months with all of Russia’s mothers. We have begged from ground built by bones of the dead. Lev, I was not meant to be your mother, though I have loved you…
By Tina Rego I hear your voice without a pain in my chest my ears are over you I see your face without hurting inside my eyes are over you I smell your cologne without remembering you my nose is over you I remember your touch without dying inside my…
By Paulette Zander The 57 books I’ve read about the art and craft of writing boil down to three rules. Rule #1: Never pay someone to read your writing. Rule #2: Listen to your muse. Rule #3: Do not let friends and family read your work. I have broken all…
By Gerald Solomon Rackety Amsterdam, a market stall, old disused books, two guys at chess. Heedless of rain and passers by, making and working their puzzle. Leaning head to head, nothing said. Rain shower, green awnings, wet canvas! Every raindrop a bright sky loosening from rims, becoming nothing. Two men,…
By JB Mulligan Each day takes off, the next day lands – like small slaps to the head. Crouched, furry creatures stunned by the headlights. “Of course they’ll stop. If they don’t, they’ll hit me.” No deed of a boulder to hoist up the hill: bend and pick up a…
By Dawnell Harrison Her maiden mouth Grieved like the red Petals of a rose – Velvety and tender In her bowl Full of wounds.
By Michael Finn A Grandma punched another Grandma In the face. She knocked her down And made her bleed Profusely. She did it for Love. Twisted horns jutted beneath crusty scalp. Grandma’s piercing, shrilling, thundered, “Stay Down you old bitch!” Grandma’s crucifix flipped upside down…
By Carol Hamilton Today is Halloween, and the sky does not look spooky…but I remember our house of many demons set back on a rutted Ohio road at the edge of a ravine that roared with snowmelt, dried up in summer, birthed a hillside of infant snakes one spring. My middle…
By Susan Dale Stacy Dale Dear Editor of Rambunctious Literary: Unnamed: Unheralded: Unknown: I enjoyed reading the stories on your webpage: well, some of them, anyhow. But by the fourth story of sexual encounters after underage drinking … one at the beach, one in an empty bus, and two in…
By Julie Young Kara skipped into our cluttered kitchen with a huge lace bow tied in front of her silky red dress. Her smile created dimples on each side of her porcelain cheeks; her caramel eyes sparkled with pride as her little fingers untied the bow and then dipped lace…