by Bart Edelman
The night twists tighter—
A tourniquet of desire.
And we can’t help but whisper,
Where are you, Osbaldo? Continue reading
by Jonathon Medeiros
I don’t recall the question or the response I gave, but I remember the frustration rising in the nun’s face, creeping up her neck before turning her mottled brown cheeks dark purple. She asked again, her words clipped, her lips tight, her long black habit shivering with her consternation, as the class nervously giggled. And another response from me, possibly the same response. I don’t remember saying the wrong thing on purpose. I wasn’t trying to be smart or funny. There was clearly a gap between Sister Scholastica’s query and my understanding of her desires, a gap that distressed me as I watched it yawn open— Continue reading
Filed under Nonfiction
by Yvonne Higgins Leach
No man ever told her she couldn’t do it herself.
Nor did the female cartoon characters who
gleamed on the screen. Even Olive Oyl ate spinach.
With the same superhuman strength, she beat
every boy in the 100-yard dash in the 7th grade. Continue reading
Filed under Poetry
by Yvonne Higgins Leach
Because my mind is a bank
of images sparked by emotion
I see you come through the door, Auntie,
in your wrinkled receptionist uniform Continue reading
Filed under Poetry
by Kaylie Saidin
Charlie says he saw the kraken but with no proof, he’s a fool, rotten-scented as the sea foam that coagulates beneath the hull. We’ve been on the Nightingale for one month now, sleeping in the red-twined hammocks, sloshing seawater all over the deck, gutting fish and slicing our fingers, eating stale bread and sucking on lemons. Continue reading
Filed under Fiction