fall 2016
Table of Contents
Return to Home Page
12:33 AM
What Colour is That?
Mormei Zanke
sometimes old name warning: leaf kotasek
That Night She Happened So Easy Nicomekl River Claire Matthews
10 words repeated
Falcon oHara
* (You test each hole for winter) * (Your shadow spreads across) * (Shielding your lips this stone) Simon Perchik
With Their Flicker Fork Tongues, Snakes Taste the Bitter, Bright Air Blue Moon Enters the Street Arleen Paré
Unquiet Slumbers for the Sleepers Stuart A. Paterson
Notes From a Relationship with Hades (#1)
Cindy Pereira
Penmanship in Catholic School James Valvis
common time
cloud variations
Rachelle Pinnow
A Little Soap Work
Leena Niemela
Tuesday Shared Accommodation Shaun Robinson
Certain Things You Should Know About Rusty
Kathleen M. Heideman
Sigmund Freud, Action Figure Meghan Bell
Indian (4) Blood Quantum (8-9) Jordan Abel
After Jim Morrison, May 1985
Manny Blacksher
Livingston Cape Celyn Adam Day
Nicomekl River
The loneliest thing in the world is waiting to be found.
—Sarah Linden, The Killing
A trace of her hair tucked away, his skin
beneath her nails. Each square reminded him
of hopscotch. Her head like a tetherball. What kind
of bird are you? He held her between
his hands, hoped every follicle would
remember this. The woven fabric—a crosshatch
on her cheek—pushed a fallen drop into the bookends
of her mouth. It’s like he was never on her
skin, so afraid to be lonely—a measure
of its thickness. We always return to what we do
best. The stillness of her: a fog hovering
over the river, crowded by oak leaves
and a surface film that slicks the Nicomekl
fish brown. She always wanted her name on the lips
of the town. Instead, belly to the bottom, she waits.