Prose, Poetry, and Art since 1956
“Don’t get above your raising.”— Karen Salyer McElmurray Water falls intothe deep fryer, tidalingtowards my shaking hands. Singed skin still serving,brown, sprawling splatters sink ineveryone has them. From drive-thru speakers,music caught inside the car,today, Chopin…
Photo by Adam Bignell on Unsplash
His bony knees scrapetheir slow way towardthe passenger seat becausethere’s no rushing thisliving; the body is a congenitalgift, a boulder to impelthrough each day, its facelimned in rough beauty. Once tucked into the littleChevy, my…
Across the Street Tree roots buckled the drivewayuntil weeds grew knee-highthrough the twisting cracks.Haggard men always seemed to belighting cigarettes with pale cupped hands.Even in winter they wore only T-shirts,each with a pack of Viceroysrolled…
