by Rob Benvie

I am on the phone with Loel, arguing semi-seriously about whether crystal meth is passé, when the buzzer buzzes. I tell Loel this discussion is not ...

When Life Gives You Doris.

by Mark Jordan Manner

Yes, it’s true. My name is Doris Doykle-Dohnk. I used to think it was because God hated me, but then I decided there is no God. It was a decision I ...


Four Poems.

by Louise Carson

  THE GIFTS Two handfuls of baby carrots and it’s as though you’ve sprouted extra fingers only summers count loud wine suppers on the back porc...

Two Poems.

by Michael e. Casteels

Particles Subtract your elegy from my sonnet. Extract the essence from the flora. Impersonate the Prime Minister; pretend you are a pig, or some oth...

Shine On, You Moons of Jupiter.

by Deirdre Maultsaid

Bess, the landlord’s daughter should cover the begonia of blood on the musket, put her hair up into a bun and descend; walk out alone on the Little ...

Five Poems.

by Simon Perchik

  * For a split-second these steps are at a loss, half thorns half holding back just enough in case you come too close and your shadow no longe...

Two Poems.

by Mame Ekblom Cudd

  Perhaps a Few Moments in Edward Hopper’s Childhood The Hopper boy stands tall Now four p.m. in his side yard Waiting for the sun, its light t...