Author: admin

REFLECTION SHUDDERED BY DAVID DEPHY

I woke up to the sound of neigh. The moon’s reflection shuddered in river. The night streamed in. Loving life is seeing with the eyes of another. Understanding life is feeling with the heart of another. I remembered how we knew...

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FLEETING GLIMPSE BY DAVID DEPHY

I know, you remember this smell. You remember this sound too. When you were alone, you felt something, you saw something, maybe you do not know exactly what, but you caught a fleeting glimpse. Correct? Just for a second, you saw...

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WE NEVER KNEW BY DAVID DEPHY

We never knew what exactly the night is. We thought water was clear and the others were not dead, they were the mirrors of us, we must be careful here. Speechless in silence. We never knew the words have a different meaning, and...

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DIED ALONE BY DAVID SAPP

We heard from the mortician, “We have your mother here,” last rites, identification, cremation, all digital, from a prudent distance. Gratefully, a cousin picked up her ashes, weighty, weighty box of gray grit. In the Nazareth...

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I MUST BE COURAGEOUS BY DAVID SAPP

After a storm in the night, Old Woman Creek is high, stirred thick with silt, a rich cup of coffee with cream spilling over its rim. The bottom obscured, I wonder over the muskrats, their crawfish prey, the tiny schools of...

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ON TIME BY BRUCE TAYLOR

The Autumn when you thought you wouldn’t last the winter, and Springs when you saw no end in sight. Doves cooing as it showers. Summer robins squabbling in the evening’s green unrest. The honeysuckle’s mute luster going more...

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ANOTHER STORM WARNING BY BRUCE TAYLOR

Four in just as many days. The sirens go unheeded if not unheard. Life in the cellar or life all blown about, life not lived so much as merely lived through. The old cat clawing at the ragged screen...

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LOVERS SOMETIMES WAIT BY BRUCE TAYLOR

for what seems like forever, sometimes they don’t wait to take off their shoes. A phone booth’s a grotto, a dark park bench the anteroom to the Cave of Lights or Juliet’s tomb. Smoking endless cigarettes together or alone they...

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UPRIVER BY BRUCE TAYLOR

The news as we know it here comes from upriver, the slag of it on Spring high tides, the dreck of it, slow as a September river often is. What whirled and eddied yesterday, what the storm brought with it, what was worn and...

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A CROOKED CHILDHOOD BY R. NIKOLAS MACIOCI

I have an obsession with the seedy side of life. Being born in the South End of Columbus, spending formative years there accounts for preoccupation with the sordid and unsavory. On the other hand, when I lived in the South End,...

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THE SWIMMING LESSON BY CYNDI CRESSWELL COOK

I could feel the scent of lake water. It was inside me and I felt submerged before I even stuck in one baby toe. The lake. I liked how it carefully extended its fingers, wanting to know what the sand on the shore felt like. With...

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