by James B. Nicola I heard my mother’s voice today. Thanksgiving weekend. Ten years this January. My nephew played a very loving voice mail message from her he has kept on his cell phone ten years. My brother said he has kept three such messages. My nephew said he had another one and wept awhile. It made…
by Rodger Martin In the pressure of the fuselage, at this height I’ve become Jeopardy host pushing scripts for an audience no one sees. Science for one thousand. My portal turns microscope, its double panes a slide and the Earth out there, holy in its ghost of curve, demands comprehension….
by Abigail Warren (After Corot’s Hagar in the Wilderness) Ish drives a cab down Eldridge Street and mutters under his breath as he passes the temple. He speaks to no one as they enter and exit his taxi. After work, he walks Hester and Orchard Street searches for half smoked…