by Frank Richards James had just stepped into the kitchen when he heard the garage door opening. His wife, Jan, must have returned from the auction. She was always good at finding overlooked treasures at auctions. He wondered what she’d bought this time. Jan came into the kitchen through the…
by Chris Boucher Following the hollow sound of a bounding ball Into an empty early morning gym, an old man starts to shoot solo. The long dormant floor creaks and moans And the rim rattles in the echoey cold— Echoes like his old skills. He lives with that Like he…
by Chris Boucher My pet beagle is expanding my world. One day she sniffs out rabbit pellets behind the house. Another day it’s a freshly-dug hole under the shed – my neighbor says a hedgehog did it. On yet another, she returns proudly with a deer antler in her mouth….
by Amy Covel I’m not here To be a hero Just a world-shaker Here to erupt As a volcano A ticking time bomb Whose time is up Remembered only For that one sudden Explosion.
by Robert Barhite I hate cops. I grew up in Postville, Iowa, way up in the northeast corner of the state and not too far from the Mississippi River. Nothing much ever changed in my hometown. I went to the same red brick two story grade school built in 1908…
by Elliott Laurence She’s closer to ninety there she is though this sunny morning making her way Hitch in her stride cane in hand. years of osteo’ I’d bargain have left her hunched over. Past the used car lot. Pushing her way past the H&R Block. Never seen her turn…
by Sarah May Wilson The intermittent bumps of the rail connectors jostle me against the vinyl seat back. Aside from that I am quite comfortable. I didn’t expect a train to be so accommodating to its passengers. Looking up and out through the window to my left, I have two…
by Scott Patterson I am the hanging tree, with a thirst for saltwater windswept but strong no shade from the sun I command the sky above the sea but not your twisted path here among the weeds. I am the hanging tree, supported by century old roots Black-burgundy birds remembering…
By Tom Ipri Brian Featherstone walked down Spruce Street—smart phone in one hand with its ear buds snuggling in his ears, its microphone dangling just below his chin, vape in his other hand—ignorant of the existence of other pedestrians in whose way he was getting. Some gave him an Evil…
by Gonzalinho da Costa A theory works until you try it out. A theory corrected by experience is no longer a theory. Wisdom is life experience applied to well-considered judgment. Darkness arises from the absence or deficiency of light, obscurity from its excess. Religion…