Author: admin

INTO OUR BONE CLOSETS BY VINCENT BELL

Body maps on the wall in medical offices make us think that doctors know our insides from a cursory look outside. Psychotherapists reach their conclusions without even the benefit of wall hangings. Advances in medicine have...

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IN MY NEIGHBORHOODS BY VINCENT BELL

As a child, I knew to fear the old man who lived across the street. He was mysterious and his house frightening. He lived alone without a family. At night there were only flickering dim lights we thought from candles. Today a...

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MY FIRE IN THE BASEMENT BY VINCENT BELL

The elevator man opened the gates. They rattled as the car descended to the basement. There old steel dryers were pulled out on rollers So hot you could burn your hands. Inside the dryers were metal rods for hanging wet laundry....

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LIKE A CHILD BY CHARLENE STEGMAN MOSKAL

Like a child who tries to catch snow on the tongue I try to snare them before they dissolve into the fog of my years Like a child who chases lightening bugs that scatter in the dusk, in twilights of other places I run after...

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WASHED UP BY CHARLENE STEGMAN MOSKAL

My heart is gelated – could be mistaken For a Portuguese man-o-war Trailing long stinging tentacles Purple blue blobs that wash up on sand My heart must be avoided now I have made sure to inject it With doubt, and...

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DRY SEASON BY CHARLENE STEGMAN MOSKAL

There has been no rain for almost a year Skipped the Monsoon Season, Skipped the need of my trees Now begging as their trunks pale What should be purple and green are crisp Gray out of the Mojave’s oven Without smell or taste or...

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MORT’S PEN BY PATRICIA SCHULTHEIS

Louche. The man sitting opposite me was louche. I looked up, and there he was, across my dining room table, one arm draped over the back of his chair, suit coat open, tie loosened, dark hair needing a trim. His eyes, not too...

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APOCRYPHA BY WILL HEMMER

Inside a wind of tannic coldness emanations of secret books and treatises, musing upon old warnings of protean creatures slouching again toward Bethlehem. The good and the bad passing to destruction. Then a long shaft of amber...

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BROTHER SNOW BY BRIAN DALDORPH

My brother was not a strong man. He was always the last to be picked for a team but he was strong in another way: if he believed in something he’d do it, nothing would stop him. He left for basic training the day after his...

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