by Kaitlin Dyer
God, forgive us. We build a fence
in the yard.
We hold our dogs to our own
and scold them when they try to greet. Continue reading
by Kaitlin Dyer
God, forgive us. We build a fence
in the yard.
We hold our dogs to our own
and scold them when they try to greet. Continue reading
Filed under Poetry
by Tim Parrish
(an excerpt from the novel The Jumper, Winner of the 2012 George Garret Prize for Fiction)
J.T. barely noticed it among the stack. He tossed the mail onto his kitchen table, then sat and skimmed the rental ads for the tenth time. He had two-hundred fourteen dollars and no car. Even the smallest garage apartment in this neighborhood started at one-fifty a month and that didn’t include deposit or utilities. Plus, he’d been in this spot for two years and it was beyond sweet for the price. His only hope to pay off Mr. Charley and stay here not too far from the college was a blackjack game tonight, actually a pretty good hope since blackjack was his game. Continue reading
Filed under Fiction
by Jim Warner
Lawyers make great poets
because they understand the
economy of language, how
to spend it, and the value of
words. Poets make poor Continue reading
Filed under Poetry
by Jim Warner
Who we were slowly turns the color of December dusk,
after a snow squall, where the snow slowly changes to
rain, and then sleet, and then is plowed to a dirty mush
so we can hurry home to an empty house. Your name Continue reading
Filed under Poetry
by Annette C. Boehm
A giant of limitless power, at man’s command.
We found him in the head of a pin. In a pincushion.
In a sewing basket. In ships and shoes and ceiling wax
and cabbages and cranes. Continue reading