by Chris Ketchum
Payette National Forest Continue reading
by Chris Ketchum
Payette National Forest Continue reading
Filed under Poetry
by Donald Illich
I am the body floating in the lake.
No one talks about me. I’m embarrassing. Continue reading
Filed under Poetry
by William Hawkins
Not much troubles the gargoyles of il Duomo di Milano. They feel neither rain nor wind nor the scratch of lichen. They jut into space blind and deaf. Though I have heard they do know the sun, as even light can enter stone. Continue reading
Filed under Fiction
by Andy Gambell
Engine hums mesmerize like a Buddhist Om, and roads
unfurl themselves like mistakes or promises. Continue reading
Filed under Poetry
by J. T. Townley
Most of us can barely lift the axes, much less fling them at the target. Not only do we miss the bullseye, most of our throws clatter to the floor. Any blades that sink into the wood, even well outside those concentric circles, send us into conniptions of artificial joy and feigned delight.
Whose bright idea was this? Continue reading
Filed under Fiction