Somehow oddly beautiful in how they park, their soft bones in libraries and coffee houses, tough to offend after six or so decades spent in toil under capitalist sky, old women who bore the…
Browsing Category Prose, Poetry, and Art
ON MOTHER’S DAY, FOURTEEN YEARS AFTER MOM’S LAST HEART ATTACK by Michael Meyerhofer
A white farm boy turned poet turned professor cruising the aisles of the local goodwill with a two foot black ceramic Jesus in his shopping cart— A gift for my stepmom, I explain to the…
Nothing Times Ten by Clifton Bates
I was not exactly naked but threads were pretty bare I placed three mirrors at right angles lit nine candles in a pool of shallow water pissed ten cent schooners in the shower. I…
CONSUMMATION by Michael Meyerhofer
Odd how we only kiss face to face—I want the back of my skull to know yours, I want that primordial rush of ocean when your ear mouths mine, when my navel lies on yours…
Sharing by Edward Sage
The tree-huggers gathered on the east bank of the WillametteRiver and held pinwheels above their heads facing Idaho. And Idaho blew back something headstrong and those pinwheels spun like mad. The little crowd…