by Babak Movahed Why don’t you talk about it? There’s not much to talk about. My childhood was mostly normal, certainly not traumatic. Struggle is an inevitability of upbringing. We’re not made to perfection, some divine replica of God’s image. No. Flaws are woven in the fabric of who we are. Fathers and sons, cut…
Category: 2024
Protected: Attached
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The Journey Home
by Diana Raab sit in front of a tree,imagine it’s a long lost ancestorwho you always wanted to meet;imagine they have sent you a message,but you have no idea what it is,when suddenly a hummingbird landson the red flower beside. take a deep breath, but sit very still,remove the wax from your earsand listen carefully…
Ghazal
by Sheila E. Murphy Fractions fracture, shift what we elect to think.We tell ourselves that thinking spawns retrieving. Merciful half loud birds litter the street withpunctuation that safekeeps our retrieving. Posses of arithmetic advance towardroutine left right where we left it, retrieving daylight that thresholds innocence, behold ferns,accumulated drops of sun, retrieving what we once…
this sad intersection
by William Doreski Leaving the corpse in the road,I back up to the cornerwhere dream and waking converge.My dresser stands there in the weeds. One drawer lolls open, offeringa tongue-full of T-shirts and socks.I exit the car and close the draweras snow flurries mist the view, concealing the accident scene.But a window forms in the…
Le Serpiente
by Juanita Rey At the end of night,I gently brush his lips with mine,avoid the fangs beyond.I sense he is venomousthough there’s something to be saidfor a flattering forked tongue.And he’s just the one to say it.Plus there’s thatproud handsome head,the skin that he seemsso eager to be shed.I won’t let this go any further.Once…
The Town from the Train
by John Grey I hope the people who populate this townnever speed by it in a train.For then they’ll see how brief it is –a departure masquerading as an arrival. They’ll suddenly realize that, all these years,they’ve been living in a blur,a fuzzy siding, distorted buildings,some shapes, an eye-blink worth of road. There’d be no…
King David
by Casey Grooten This is it.This land, the raspberry garden,The twig that held it all up-The me that held you up. A mean spirit is someone thattricks other people into buying pizza,asks mom and dad if we can sleep there for a month,threesomes, fucking old men for money,and giving it awayto the casino. He is…
Protected: a little bit of rain
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Protected: Let Us Assume
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