by Angela Patten | Apr 8, 2013
“My only regret is that I wasn’t born somebody else.” Woody Allen Sorry I’m late, you whisper as you slip into the room with your breath in your fist. Sorry, sorry, I’m sorry you mumble as...
by Paul Ostremba | Apr 2, 2013
It begins with labor, what keeps this machine in sync within the larger gears and coils, the 1s and 0s chattering across channels of labyrinthine wires, and those tumblers on what appear to be perfectly shaped lawns...
by Wyn Cooper | Mar 20, 2013
Angels Better get your angel on, said Jennifer, her voice lower and more urgent than her usual laid back tone I spent two charmed summers listening to, on the grass, at the beach, the...
by Emilia Phillips | Mar 14, 2013
Saul Bass, graphic designer We use death because it contains all life the way we use black for all colors, & light. &c. for all words & allegory for meaning. Meaning for all people is not the same. We take people for individuals. An individual for one....
by David Sullivan | Mar 5, 2013
Her Terms Sonja didn’t speak when she saw the uniforms through the screen door’s tear. They said her full name. She slapped the door shut, locked it and every window down so tight they left without putting up a fight; just shouted his name until she rapped back on...
by Jennifer Militello | Feb 26, 2013
Home is the no I thought I knew before I’d mistaken it for water. Its darks parch strangely in my roots. Its gray sky grieves and is an opium for grieving. Is a lullaby. Is very soft. Bankrupts me of my bitter mouths. Home is the lost veins singing. Transcript of all...
