— My mother stands before the white heat, but for her it is more Cagney than Dickinson, sweat pants and a tray of pills, cable, that good son on a tower of fuel calling…
Browsing Category Prose, Poetry, and Art
Love Poem
— We ate gently each other’s eyes, and the world, unseen, awoke.
The Oldest Sister is an Indian Giver
— She takes her word back. The word is Killdeer and it swoops from her mouth when she lets it out for the first time. The smallest sister watches it slice the wind in loops…
A Couch Designer Describes Her Process
— It starts with a strike like a bell against the core of me— could be the silver flash of a scissor, or a harmonica’s shilly-shally. Lately it’s been scenes from late-night TV— I’m…
Shark’s Teeth and Saltwater by Katie McClendon
— Let’s say there is a shark, salivating sea salt for the taste of splintered wood and bone. You are bone centered and blood thick on the rickety bow of a ship. …