Author Archives: alannasolomon

One for Comfort

by Russell Thayer

Maggie waited on a barstool, ready to enjoy a night of hot jazz. Another long day of restaurant work had ended, and she was finally free of her custard-yellow uniform, white apron, and the idiotic mutterings of her co worker, Eve. The thought of Ronnie Johnson’s Combo on stage soon at the New Orleans Swing Club made Maggie snap her fingers with excitement. She’d dance tonight if a man asked her. Someday she might even get up on stage and beat that old piano herself. Continue reading

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At the Confluence of Latah Creek and the Spokane

by Damien Uriah

the present word sleeps
in a wet tennis shoe laid on a tarp
while the nameless bird sings from the south
as if resting in the sky
in another world the river woman sneaks up behind me
her footprints travelling as rocks Continue reading

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The Heart Murmur

by Elizabeth Crowell

When my son weighed a pound a half,
his breath lagged like a dragging step.
His heart murmured, unclosed,
and so they opened that tiny, living body up. Continue reading

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14 Lines for Vacancies 

by Matthew LaFreniere

We drive, my mother and I, down
Timberlake, not silent but not talking,
the neons of store signs and brake lights stark Continue reading

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How to Fly with One Wing

by Stephani Nur Colby

From the memoir Walking with the Ineffable by Green Writers Press

Sometimes the clinical unit felt as if, rather than being rooted on mothership earth, it was idly circling in the meteor belt deep in space. The twelve severely and profoundly cognitively impaired children who lived in its cinderblock and linoleum capsule seemed to ramble – those who could ramble – in a kind of Brownian movement, unfocussed, drifting by walls and chairs as if impelled by eccentric, unseen gravitational forces that sent them hither and thither, reasonless. The children themselves often seemed like lonely asteroids, shot out of the shattered core of some larger planet where parts of them – the parts that gave speech, sight, hearing, linear reason, functional ability, even varying degrees of physical motion – had been left behind. And here they were, still trying to live out their lives – butterflies with only one wing. Continue reading

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