fall 2016
Table of Contents
Return to Home PageWith Their Flicker Fork Tongues, Snakes Taste the Bitter, Bright Air Blue Moon Enters the Street Arleen Paré
Unquiet Slumbers for the Sleepers Stuart A. Paterson
Notes From a Relationship with Hades (#1)
Cindy Pereira
Livingston Cape Celyn Adam Day
That Night She Happened So Easy Nicomekl River Claire Matthews
Sigmund Freud, Action Figure Meghan Bell
sometimes old name warning: leaf kotasek
* (You test each hole for winter) * (Your shadow spreads across) * (Shielding your lips this stone) Simon Perchik
10 words repeated
Falcon oHara
Tuesday Shared Accommodation Shaun Robinson
Indian (4) Blood Quantum (8-9) Jordan Abel
A Little Soap Work
Leena Niemela
Penmanship in Catholic School James Valvis
common time
cloud variations
Rachelle Pinnow
12:33 AM
What Colour is That?
Mormei Zanke
Certain Things You Should Know About Rusty
Kathleen M. Heideman
After Jim Morrison, May 1985
Manny Blacksher
*
Your shadow spreads across
the way this hillside
once it catches fire cools
half molten rock, half
your usual breakfast, no plate
no table, just a few hours
boiled in beach grass and the smell
mornings once gave off—you
are always lost, moving things
an arm, a foot, until the air
is bitter, has no salt, no smoke
—nothing’s left in you
—even if you want to be alive
this darkness will call you back
is already reaching up, swollen
from emptiness and your throat
opened for paving stones
you don’t know how to narrow down.