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
* (You test each hole for winter) * (Your shadow spreads across) * (Shielding your lips this stone) Simon Perchik
Unquiet Slumbers for the Sleepers Stuart A. Paterson
After Jim Morrison, May 1985
Manny Blacksher
Certain Things You Should Know About Rusty
Kathleen M. Heideman
12:33 AM
What Colour is That?
Mormei Zanke
10 words repeated
Falcon oHara
Indian (4) Blood Quantum (8-9) Jordan Abel
Penmanship in Catholic School James Valvis
That Night She Happened So Easy Nicomekl River Claire Matthews
common time
cloud variations
Rachelle Pinnow
Notes From a Relationship with Hades (#1)
Cindy Pereira
sometimes old name warning: leaf kotasek
Tuesday Shared Accommodation Shaun Robinson
Livingston Cape Celyn Adam Day
Sigmund Freud, Action Figure Meghan Bell
A Little Soap Work
Leena Niemela
*
Your shadow spreads across
the way this hillside
once it catches fire cools
half molten rock, half
your usual breakfast, no plate
no table, just a few hours
boiled in beach grass and the smell
mornings once gave off—you
are always lost, moving things
an arm, a foot, until the air
is bitter, has no salt, no smoke
—nothing’s left in you
—even if you want to be alive
this darkness will call you back
is already reaching up, swollen
from emptiness and your throat
opened for paving stones
you don’t know how to narrow down.