fall 2015
Table of Contents
Return to Home PageWhy, And for What Purpose Is There Something Ace Bogess
what do you talk about desire derives pleasure aren't we missing every thing gary lundy
Word on the Street Henry Rappaport
Can't Stomach Mitchell Grabois
Yellow Flowers The World Dream Ann Filemyr
(Ouverture) Garry Thomas Morse
Fault Vodka / Blame Juice Jamie Sharpe
The Insidious Susurration A Conversation Marie-Andree Auclair
Alcohol Fast-slow Continuum Peycho Kanev
The Story of Chitin Giri Zoe Dagneault
Brains Lost to the Earth Melissa Nelson
revenge/reincarnation annie ross
the neighbors knew i divined water Hell is hot Allison DeLauer
The Stale Cold Smell of Morning Angela Rebrec
The Day Everyone Realized Ron Riekki
Saturday Night Charles Springer
Darkening Over Still Water Richard King Perkins II
QED A Moth In Rain Christopher Patton
a rose is a rose is a rose manhattan Nikki Reimer
In the Cyberspace Icicle Changming Yuan
A Fire Hydrant on Camino de la Amapola Good to See You Eleanor Kedney
Girl I Girl II Carolyn Supinka
A Monday The Devil Valentina Cano
Girl I
She is this drink I stir. The sweep
of cut straws over my surface, cleaning
me abrasively. I want to say, I value you.
With you it’s like being alone. The best
possible compliment. They don’t come easy,
these friends. These girls talk like it’s
the fourth of July, and we love our country.
Nation building is a sport to her. We pieced together
our own island ages ago. I swim around it in circles.
She inhabits it, and calls me to shore with conch shells
and smoke signals. I see that cloud of black air in my
beach blue sky, that ball of red wool in my pocket,
a reverse unraveling. It’s this love, a word
without the prickles of sex. This want is body-less.
I over-use that word with her. I throw it on the ground
and run over it, I want to pave the streets with it
and stomp until it’s pressed into our landscape,
until it’s breathless and casual as cement.