You Come by It Honestly

by Travis Flatt

My dog, Hero, is double dead.

Shortly after my nephew’s parents leave for their anniversary dinner, Parker comes to me brandishing Hero’s empty food bowl, demanding why I haven’t fed her, that she must have now (double) died of starvation.

Those first few minutes of drop-off were rough; the news of Hero’s death was delivered to Parker as he ran around, eager to pet and scritch Hero. My sister-in-law and I chased him, asking him to listen. My brother, oblivious, described the guitar he’d just bought.

We caught Parker in my living room. I tried to explain that Hero died last week, gave up, and turned it over to my sister-in-law. Turns out “went to heaven” is their euphemism.  Continue reading →

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The World You Think You Know

by Saadia Peerzada

First they took August away
and now September,
I eat a navel orange over the dustbin
so I can leave the kitchen clean. Continue reading →

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Wait for the Ending

by Brian Giddens

Dorothy never thought she’d live this long.
An age where she holds more losses than assets.
First husband? Heart attack. Second husband?
Didn’t linger long from cancer. Friends?
One by one by one by one, a row of dominos.
Continue reading →

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Falling Asleep

by Drew Heuermann

Our hands, interlocked through the night. Doing what we can to keep
our lanterns close. Our bodies, a pair of spent tissues

floating around, too fragile to rush. A religion of inconsequence,
of passing. But what does that mean for everything in my arms?

The last mom-job of Grandma’s body was one squeeze. Almost every
body had a name once, and before they were bodies? Were we   Continue reading →

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Early One Morning in October

by Ron Domen

I woke from a restless dream about my father
who recently died. He would have been 102
this month. I got out of bed and went outside.
No faint glow from the rising sun was visible
and I was in awe of the dark clear sky.
Jupiter was in the eastern sky in the constellation
Gemini with its two bright stars Castor and Pollux.
Taurus and Orion were in their glory as was Sirius
the brightest star. When I was 10 my father helped
me build my first telescope and sparked a lifelong
interest in astronomy. In my dream my father
was alone walking away from me toward trillions
of points of light. He looked back briefly and waved.

 

Ron Domen is a retired physician living in central Pennsylvania. He has two published books of poetry (The Owl in the Woodwork, Finishing Line Press and Plaintive Music, Dos Madres Press).

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