[by Shannon Connor Winward] On the bay of Dublin the pulse and the din of the land and the sea breed desire. The caw of the gulls, and the roar of the swells, are known to set hearts afire.
[by Gerri Leen] I’m that girl. You know the one: black clothes, heavy boots, thick kohl eyeliner, hair dyed raven. I wander around the school, and you move away, afraid you’ll get cooties. You’d call me a goth, but there’s something off—I’m not just some kid trying to be counter-culture cool. I’m scary.
[by Lorraine Schein] In her Book of Shadows, the witch pasted the penumbra of the Earth during lunar eclipse with milky white glue.
[by Shannon Connor Winward] We don’t know how it was my father drowned. He had no bruises, no tears on his clothes to suggest there’d been a brawl. He had no enemies, in any case. He didn’t drink. Perhaps an apoplexy took him as he bent to wash off the grime from his day. Perhaps he’d […]
[by Victor Cypert] Man and doe caught like a snapshot —parameterized, ….denuded, ……….depicted— two dimensions in phase:
[by Gershon Ben-Avraham] A harp was placed over the bed of David, and when midnight arrived a north wind used to blow in it, so that the harp would play by itself and awake David… — Babylonian Talmud, Berakoth 3b I have seen only one photograph of the Emperor. To my knowledge, it is […]
[by Susan Spalt] bloom where you are planted was no gardener
[by Ellen Denton] The Claremont Public Library was housed in a venerable, old, stone building, the nicest one in the city. An only child, a nerd, and a friendless reject in general due to walking with a drag-and-lurch limp, I’d spent many a childhood hour reading in the comforting embrace of its inner rooms, or in […]
[by Kersten Christianson] To a canticle of wind and juncos, squalls trip across a sullen ocean an errant curtain hop- scotches across the sill of an open window.