“Piano Forte” by Lisa Croce
Who’s to say what makes a moment. Is it to be found in the glow or graying plumes reaching out to caress absence or air?[…]… Read More “Piano Forte” by Lisa Croce
Who’s to say what makes a moment. Is it to be found in the glow or graying plumes reaching out to caress absence or air?[…]… Read More “Piano Forte” by Lisa Croce
The first time I met God, I was draped in a rough, elephant-colored bathrobe, worn soles on my slippers.[…]… Read More “Portrait of the Mundane” by Jake Bailey
Bears don’t know the difference
between a fish that’s mostly dead
and a fish that jumps into a ready mouth. The waters part for a man of God. The waters part for a man with no God.[…]… Read More “Portrait of a Blackhole” by Jake Bailey
The words are mostly water and float easily between logs and silt, weaving their way into something understandable. I never agreed
to the terms of the contract, my heart a balloon loosed from fingers reddened to white.[…]… Read More “Severance” by Jake Bailey
It is awake in the chill morning air, dripping cold rainwater off of its snout to the cement below. It sees the stretch of parked cars, the fence ringing The Building which breaks only to force visitors past its stony paws, the sway of trees in the distance — all of this is discernible within… Read More “Yang” by Helen Doremus
I face myself, the thing convincing as a face can be, although it breaks where it should mend in laughter. Do you believe in me though you should believe in nothing, where it hurts a little, that time of life that stuns into you, so you see the future, where you stand guard, eager to… Read More “Death Ruins It” by Caley O’Dwyer
Does time make us crazy or is it something else? I see myself but back away. I want to know what life is, but only gain the subtle topping, cosmic merengue dissolving on the tongue. Something catches in the sieve. There is a carefulness I can’t shake. As though I could check and turn away … Read More “Night Polo” by Caley O’Dwyer