i. From the bridge a dozen boys drop paper boats into the river. Small as the cupped hands of mothers, the boats drift and spin in the current, plummet over the falls, and are gone…
Date Archives April 2013
Monochrome by Cory Saul
During the two weeks they were in the cabin, Andi painted everything grayscale. The lampshades were salt and pepper and the rotting floors were charcoal. She made murals of black on white brick. They sat…
Separation by Jeremy Windham
I Dad shouts at my mother from the driveway, his truck hiccups then roars away from us and I kick a rock to the grass with my bare foot. We stand in our garage long…
Marcus by Katie McGinnis
Marcus was a poet. A man pumped so full of lithium that his arms had swollen into sausages. So fat that I could hardly find his eyes. According to him, to his eyes, the world…
December 31 by Anis Shivani
bernadette mayer how did you live through the bush years i didn’t win any prizes but winter surprised like a second childhood to the tenebrous nursery a decade late wolf spoor kept woman awake in…