Stephen Cloud
I have always been drawn by wind-blown clouds into dreams of a lifetime of wandering. –Bashō Late autumn, a day of mist and rain keeping me indoors. I think of Bashō at the outset of his final journey: taking up the walking stick, crossing the threshold. All day long I have sat by the window watching rain, reading The Narrow Road, strumming the guitar. Outside, dead leaves have piled up, vines have lost their bloom. In a nearby field, cranes pick through harvest remains without concern for the downpour. Filled with sadness, Bashō’s friends watch him go, a sere leaf skittering in bone-chilling wind tow [...]
Judy T. Oldfield
Mon Chou – (Fr.) ca. 1997 1. A phrase of French origin that literally translates as “my cabbage.” 2. A French term of endearment. 3. A phrase I learned in French class freshman year of high school and began calling you, which you did not like (see definition 1). Light – (Eng.) ca. 1998 1. A source of illumination or heat. 2. An ignition. 3. A light c [...]
Lucie Amundsen
It’s just past midnight and my 13-year-old is not back from her babysitting gig. Abbie’s a couple of hours late now and the parents’ cell rolls directly to voice mail. Likely it’s just drained of charge from the weather. It’s that cold. Days of Arctic fronts have animated our newscasters, who brandish their arms over the Minnesota map as they issue dire [...]
J. R. Miller
1. I want to say it was Scott who—back in the seventh grade—stole his mom’s Valium, his father’s coke, his older brother’s weed, and his younger brother’s Ritalin. I want to say it was Scott who once, before Woodshop, put a dot in his eye and slipped into his own wor [...]
Jane Harrington
You slide the knife’s edge across the top of the cup, making sure there is not one speck of flour more nor less than called for in the recipe. Now you wipe the counter, clearing the pale dust f [...]
Katherine Evans
The Los Angeles apartment was tropical, with grapefruits hanging heavy off the trees that lined our street and fat lemons that spilled into the gutter, sometimes hitting car hoods in the night on their way down and making the alarms go off. From our unit we had a clean view of the San Gabriels. [...]
Justin Fetterman
We don't know where it goes. We don't really care. When painting alla prima, you work back towards yourself. Oil based, wet-on-wet. Translated Italian: first attempt. Coat the canvas with magic white or phthalo blue. A single point of yellow, spread by the almighty f [...]
Kelsey Camacho
When you first find it with the rest of the kids in your neighborhood, you will be fourteen. The lot is overgrown and lakeside. You will notice the waist-high grass and missing wood panels from the dock, and you will begin to think that the property is fading in to itse [...]
Regina M. Ernst
1 A kettle of turkey vultures is doing that thing. They soar in one place, black wings widespread, catching the updraft to nowhere, stuck in the blue expanse like freckles on a face. They form no shape, but are framed between two tall buildings, air conditioning units and clothes coloring the sides. If this is the Caribbean Sea, if the vultures are [...]
03.11.14
12.13.13
12.12.13
12.05.13
12.04.13
12.03.13
11.29.13
11.28.13
11.23.13