fall 2015
Table of Contents
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Word on the Street
Henry Rappaport
Fault Vodka / Blame Juice Jamie Sharpe
The Stale Cold Smell of Morning
Angela Rebrec
the neighbors knew i divined water
Hell is hot
Allison DeLauer
A Monday The Devil Valentina Cano
Girl I
Girl II
Carolyn Supinka
Brains Lost to the Earth Melissa Nelson
Can't Stomach Mitchell Grabois
Why, And for What Purpose
Is There Something
Ace Bogess
In the Cyberspace Icicle Changming Yuan
(Ouverture) Garry Thomas Morse
Yellow Flowers
The World Dream
Ann Filemyr
The Story of Chitin Giri Zoe Dagneault
QED A Moth In Rain Christopher Patton
Alcohol
Fast-slow Continuum
Peycho Kanev
Saturday Night
Charles Springer
a rose is a rose is a rose manhattan Nikki Reimer
The Insidious Susurration
A Conversation
Marie-Andree Auclair
what do you talk about
desire derives pleasure
aren't we missing every thing
gary lundy
A Fire Hydrant on Camino de la Amapola
Good to See You
Eleanor Kedney
revenge/reincarnation annie ross
Darkening Over Still Water Richard King Perkins II
The Day Everyone Realized Ron Riekki
Girl I
She is this drink I stir. The sweep
of cut straws over my surface, cleaning
me abrasively. I want to say, I value you.
With you it’s like being alone. The best
possible compliment. They don’t come easy,
these friends. These girls talk like it’s
the fourth of July, and we love our country.
Nation building is a sport to her. We pieced together
our own island ages ago. I swim around it in circles.
She inhabits it, and calls me to shore with conch shells
and smoke signals. I see that cloud of black air in my
beach blue sky, that ball of red wool in my pocket,
a reverse unraveling. It’s this love, a word
without the prickles of sex. This want is body-less.
I over-use that word with her. I throw it on the ground
and run over it, I want to pave the streets with it
and stomp until it’s pressed into our landscape,
until it’s breathless and casual as cement.