by Jason Walker
The parents
nap
on a water-
bed. We plot
to pop
it with forks. Continue reading
by Jason Walker
The parents
nap
on a water-
bed. We plot
to pop
it with forks. Continue reading
Filed under Poetry
by Adam Deutsch
A monarch was creamed
on the radiator along the way, Continue reading
Filed under Poetry
by Jacob M. Appel
He bled our girls’ fevers, poulticed their burns,
Stayed up with Baby Ida to the last, Continue reading
by Christopher Linforth
At the doorway to the barracks, Shoshana saw snow fall into the darkness. Now and then the searchlights scanning the camp illuminated the flurry of white, reminding her of the soap flakes her mother used to wash her clothes. She lifted the gauze from her wrist and picked at the scabby flesh that had grown over the blue numbers. Continue reading
Filed under Fiction
by JSP Jacobs
This is where we walk slowly
My arm linked in yours Continue reading
Filed under Poetry