by Christy Bailes I fell through the mirror into a basket of rubber arms, as if lovers had become repeated doll limbs, reaching for me at every angle. I twisted my body to catch one, then another, but their fingers bent to forearms in darkness that stretched so loud, I…
by Michael C. Keith For some offenses, there is only retribution. – Dennis R. Miller Quinn Myer woke up in the middle of the night to relieve himself, but…
by Naomi Ruth Lowinsky We’re in the dark again, on uneven ground, where only shadows know the way. Your breath is my compass; your hand is the North Star. What have we stumbled into? Stag’s skull crowns a tent of bones. We are to sleep here. Remember the stag in…
by Marc Tretin Because the cake they bought for me had two breasts with cherry nipples, I felt understood by my staff. I was really impressed with its icing, “Welcome Back to Girlhood, And Fuck This Job’s Cheap Health Insurance.” I put two party balloons under my blouse then popped…
by Daniel Charles Ross Traffic sucked. Traffic always sucks, of course. The worst form of standing in line is in traffic. My little town, a suburb of another already small town, had found a chunk of federal road budget they had to spend or lose it, so they tore up…
by Margaret McNellis Rose’s elbows trembled. A drop of sweat splashed onto the red jigsaw mat beneath her face. She scrunched her eyes shut and tried to remember to breathe. She tried to remember that this was what she wanted. She tried to remember that she signed up for this,…
by Ali Znaidi Prologue Aroma of honeysuckle. —Dust particles falling through her hair. Scene Snowflakes were falling on the street. —Sappho was in her balcony experimenting w/ throwing jasmine in all directions. Epilogue A thick fog appeared. —A halo of Sapphic scents covered all the city.
by Cynthia Roby Faltered Footwear Deflated and dusty soles, desert-dry tongue, aglets in a state of postmortem rigidity, eyelets ringed in jaundice-yellow. Our walks, our past, now in permanent cessation. The miles we traveled, the combing through, the crushing of, autumn leaves. From beneath the table you spied me sway,…
by Diane Walters “What gives you your resilience, Diane?” my friend from Minnesota asks me quite frequently. I never know what answer he is searching for. I never know what will scratch that itch he has. “What do you mean, Gary?” “You have not had an easy life, yet you…
by Megan Vered I knew that Mom would not linger. My impression is that people die the way they live, and Mom was efficient. I called my siblings and all the grandchildren that lived nearby. “If you want to say good-bye, go. Now.” I called James and told her I could…