fall 2015
Table of Contents
Return to Home PageWhy, And for What Purpose Is There Something Ace Bogess
Brains Lost to the Earth Melissa Nelson
In the Cyberspace Icicle Changming Yuan
The Day Everyone Realized Ron Riekki
A Fire Hydrant on Camino de la Amapola Good to See You Eleanor Kedney
Fault Vodka / Blame Juice Jamie Sharpe
a rose is a rose is a rose manhattan Nikki Reimer
(Ouverture) Garry Thomas Morse
A Monday The Devil Valentina Cano
The Stale Cold Smell of Morning Angela Rebrec
what do you talk about desire derives pleasure aren't we missing every thing gary lundy
The Story of Chitin Giri Zoe Dagneault
revenge/reincarnation annie ross
Saturday Night Charles Springer
QED A Moth In Rain Christopher Patton
Yellow Flowers The World Dream Ann Filemyr
the neighbors knew i divined water Hell is hot Allison DeLauer
Alcohol Fast-slow Continuum Peycho Kanev
The Insidious Susurration A Conversation Marie-Andree Auclair
Darkening Over Still Water Richard King Perkins II
Can't Stomach Mitchell Grabois
Girl I Girl II Carolyn Supinka
Word on the Street Henry Rappaport
“Hell is hot”
says the sign nailed to a tree
along the side of the highway
Remember—
My children! My children!
Grandfather called out in his sleep
while the world grew indomitable, strange, and lonely
Everything I touched has turned to salt, he said
So I told him, Taste this watermelon, sweet as kisses
but recalled the thin snake—; a bright green spiral in the road
Imagine: in 1945 they lugged a locked box
onto the USS Indianapolis. The sailors thought
it might hold Marilyn Monroe’s underpants
Instead,
Little Boy, beware the error in nostalgia
which is just desire calcified— torched
like sand to glass in the heat of years