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
common time
cloud variations
Rachelle Pinnow
Certain Things You Should Know About Rusty
Kathleen M. Heideman
Indian (4) Blood Quantum (8-9) Jordan Abel
sometimes old name warning: leaf kotasek
A Little Soap Work
Leena Niemela
Notes From a Relationship with Hades (#1)
Cindy Pereira
Sigmund Freud, Action Figure Meghan Bell
That Night She Happened So Easy Nicomekl River Claire Matthews
12:33 AM
What Colour is That?
Mormei Zanke
*
You test each hole for winter
mixed with seawater
and from a single fingertip
someone near is counting
as if the sky is lit
by campfires and overflowing
that harden into sand not yet
a path for thirst and gravel
needs footsteps that can tear down
a mountain just to move you
further and under its darkness
—you dig, want so little room
no garden, no winding rivers
that slowly come to a stop
as if this time you could
go to bed without the radio on
covering you arm in arm
—you hear your finger bleed
crushed under some rock
floating by to shut out the cold
and from your shoulders the words
though your mouth is empty
longing for dirt, lifeless
taken ashore here somewhere.