spring 2017
Table of Contents
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Red Sarongs
Clementine
Chelsea Comeau
The Lady or the Tiger? Michelle Brooks
Inside My House
Gleaning Stones
Onjana Yawnghwe
from Glossary of Musical Terms rob mclennan
Dear Miss Parker
Dear Mama
Chelene Knight
Romeo, Romeo, WTF?
P.C. Vandall
Constantly Looking, Admitting Nothing
Paul Douglas McNeill II
Prayer For Our Past Selves
Esther McPhee
from Electric Garden
Amanda Earl
A Coke and a KitKat
Spenser Smith
Singing in Dark Times
Bhaswati Ghosh
Aztlan Travels Emiliano Sepulveda
box cars paper plates annie ross
First Loves in Brevoort Park
Body Analysis
Erin Hiebert
We Could Have Called Him Joe, We Didn't
Juliane Okot Bitek
Toy Cars Alexandra Atiya
Toy Cars
I’m just remembering something: We were in Oaxaca and you refused to enter the church and I went in alone and above the altar there wasn’t a statue of Jesus, nothing human, but an anatomical heart, a wooden model of a heart with cut-off tubes jutting out of its side. It was painted and thorns cut into it and a woman was going up the aisle on her knees to approach it.
When I came outside it was dusk. I saw you, I saw your back, you were facing the square where all those kids had rented toy cars and the longhaired women were practicing West African dance, and you were just watching the kids in the toy cars circle around the fountain, and I came up to you and put my hand on your shoulder, and you said look at that one, she looks so serious: and you pointed to a girl who was driving a pink barbie jeep and she had bangs, a little straight bob, and she looked like she was driving to work.