by Andrew Michael Roberts
It was night, and we were lost. We called the police.
Hello, they said, this is the police, we have sidearms and
stunners and black cars and shackles, and we know
how to use them.
There was a silence.
We said, We are afraid.
by Doreen Beyer
A small fire feeds on fruit boxes,
warming arthritic bones made cold
under forty feet of sea. Continue reading
by Bill Hollands
Close your eyes as the ridges
tick by under your fingertip.
Wherever you land you go,
do-overs allowed, as many
as you like. Madagascar, Nepal,
Suriname, Chad – I always
wanted Chad. I knew
nothing about it. Continue reading
by Jim Kraus
Past the line of stones,
watch out for the kiawe, its thorns.
Then run across the hot sand Continue reading
by Trish Annese
I meet M. in Prague on a lonesome Sunday in March as I chase a lost turquoise scarf down an asphalt alley and she retrieves it, stepping from the recesses of a darkened doorway—a mistress of ceremonies stepping into the spotlight—and restoring it to me with a flourish.