fall 2015
Table of Contents
Return to Home Pagethe neighbors knew i divined water Hell is hot Allison DeLauer
a rose is a rose is a rose manhattan Nikki Reimer
Word on the Street Henry Rappaport
Darkening Over Still Water Richard King Perkins II
The Story of Chitin Giri Zoe Dagneault
A Fire Hydrant on Camino de la Amapola Good to See You Eleanor Kedney
revenge/reincarnation annie ross
Can't Stomach Mitchell Grabois
Why, And for What Purpose Is There Something Ace Bogess
QED A Moth In Rain Christopher Patton
The Stale Cold Smell of Morning Angela Rebrec
A Monday The Devil Valentina Cano
Fault Vodka / Blame Juice Jamie Sharpe
Saturday Night Charles Springer
Girl I Girl II Carolyn Supinka
Yellow Flowers The World Dream Ann Filemyr
what do you talk about desire derives pleasure aren't we missing every thing gary lundy
The Day Everyone Realized Ron Riekki
The Insidious Susurration A Conversation Marie-Andree Auclair
Alcohol Fast-slow Continuum Peycho Kanev
Brains Lost to the Earth Melissa Nelson
(Ouverture) Garry Thomas Morse
In the Cyberspace Icicle Changming Yuan
Is There Something You Are Not Telling Me?
question asked by Greg Leatherman
I sit on a stone bench & let the smoke paralyze me
as I watch a minor spider balance on its silk
between two weeds, a black swallowtail
draw a magic-marker streak at my peripheral.
It’s not that I don’t want to share these things—
mine in the context of my being there.
What should I say about each forced pause
to take nature in, five minutes at a time?
Just now, a doe ambled up the road,
three speckled fawns following close
in duckling single-file. The last limped,
wrestling with death to keep her mother’s pace.
Forgive me if I didn’t plan to speak of this.
My hand grew tired from cradling its butt.
My pen fell asleep on a table in the house.