fall 2015
Table of Contents
Return to Home PageWord on the Street Henry Rappaport
the neighbors knew i divined water Hell is hot Allison DeLauer
Girl I Girl II Carolyn Supinka
A Monday The Devil Valentina Cano
Yellow Flowers The World Dream Ann Filemyr
In the Cyberspace Icicle Changming Yuan
Alcohol Fast-slow Continuum Peycho Kanev
(Ouverture) Garry Thomas Morse
Can't Stomach Mitchell Grabois
Fault Vodka / Blame Juice Jamie Sharpe
The Story of Chitin Giri Zoe Dagneault
a rose is a rose is a rose manhattan Nikki Reimer
Brains Lost to the Earth Melissa Nelson
Why, And for What Purpose Is There Something Ace Bogess
revenge/reincarnation annie ross
QED A Moth In Rain Christopher Patton
The Stale Cold Smell of Morning Angela Rebrec
Darkening Over Still Water Richard King Perkins II
A Fire Hydrant on Camino de la Amapola Good to See You Eleanor Kedney
The Insidious Susurration A Conversation Marie-Andree Auclair
Saturday Night Charles Springer
The Day Everyone Realized Ron Riekki
what do you talk about desire derives pleasure aren't we missing every thing gary lundy
“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