builds a fortress in his living room from blankets, pillows, hand-me-down futon and today after shift you’ll go there instead / of going home to your own twin-sized bed, sleeping as the walls you’ve already…
Posts tagged Poetry
Half-Life of a Wooden Pipe
While my mother was getting her stomach pried open to remove a child formedwrong side up, my father sat in the hospital lobby balancing yellow notebookpaper and pen on legs half-feeling and unsteady as he…
24 Hour Submission Window Open
24 Hour Submission Window OPEN NOW! All genres, < 1,000 words This round, we’re not asking you to write toward a particular theme. We want to see what you’ve written lately. What problems, thoughts, or…
The Wasted Pupil
after A Field in England I’ve been here before. A walking ghost before purposeappeared. Eyes rolling, billowing black sleeves, a manleads a group through a field. His smile shrieks.The others hold the corded rope tied…
The Blessing
Most of us hand off traumaslike traditions, the bloody, mud-crusted baton a father bats his son withbefore the boy takes it running off into the dark future. The pain of being humanrains down fire unto…