SNOWY ROADS, ALABAMA BY MARTA HOLLIDAY
Fear seizes your grip Tires crunch, splutter, skid—unease Glass streets—bruisey, cruel.
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Fear seizes your grip Tires crunch, splutter, skid—unease Glass streets—bruisey, cruel.
Read MorePosted by admin | Apr 5, 2025 | Visual Art | 0 |
David Sapp, artist and writer, lives along the southern shore of Lake Erie in North...
Read MorePosted by admin | Apr 5, 2025 | Non-Fiction | 1 |
A young mom sat with a child on her lap. The sharpness of her image cut across the sandstorm of happy bodies at play on the summertime beach. It was her silence that spoke louder to me than the ruckus of keyed up beachgoers. She...
Read MoreIt gets late so early now dinner at five not seven no wine allowed (bottles stashed behind winter boots) no appetite, food picked at, pretending, pushed around the plate or piled in a stack like a child’s broccoli or placed in a...
Read MoreI snuck out of the house my mother in bed with her bottles her breakfast coffee covered with a skin of cream I rode my rickety Schwinn to the library Miss Lewis looked up and smiled let me curl up in the red leather chair that...
Read MoreThey insist, my nosy children after I left the car running, forgot to pay PG&E and got lost coming home from Lucky, ending up in New Jersey What’s the problem if I know the names of my four or is it five grandkids, and can...
Read MoreThe greatest paradox of all time, Is that righteous men proselytize, To desecrate and conquer, Justifying their bestial crimes As civilizing. They pillage, exterminate, and rape, As a-necessary-evil, Contradicting their own...
Read MoreHer paws sink into the soft blanket. Like a spring they thrust her torso into the air thick with white flakes shaken from the green of spruce branches. Her glee thrills me. He stands still in his silvered black coat, his eyes...
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