fall 2019
Table of Contents
Return to Home PageLadybug, Ladybug Cristalle Smith
Border Song: Within the Paper Spiral of Wasps Janet Youngdahl
Dear Jennifer, Bridget Gage-Dixon
Now She's Going to Get It Marjorie Silverman
{steeple-chase} {grave-tending} {declining dessert} David Morgan O'Connor
Powered By English Y Pronounced EE Meredith Quartermain
Not really a father, John Sibley Williams
reflex 800possessedmoments Edward Wells
Dark Night Full of Stars After Trout in Siskiyou County Bruce Robinson
Visionary Nebraska Katie Berger
Women of Trachis Savannah Pulfer
Concurrent Incidents I Flip a Coin and My Life Becomes Her Jaimie Gusman
The ice was coming nicely Matthew Schmidt
Inherited Water View Looking at My Hand I See Her Robert Carr
Cherry Orchard Isabelle Ortner
Invocation I hold your ashes in my hand Angeline Schellenberg
Wife Lessons Jody Burke-Kaiser
Glory and the Neighbors Untidy Ending Lauren Camp
Not really a father,
what we want is something to slip our cold hands into.
Like a woolen mitten. Like the earth. Like the recently killed
when the rest of the deer have long gone stiff. We’re really asking
for something to believe in we can’t disprove, prove or answer back to. Like
the time it takes a star to burst. Like the distance light travels to find us here
already lit. What my mother meant to say in saying there is a light that hurts
no matter how long you’ve looked for it, prayed it near,
is anyone’s guess, though in that late & last hour, when her skin felt like
the insides of a fish & her words curled up at the ends into questions, I took her to
mean son, not all your sufferings require nails.