A miracle of temperature and change when water freezes or reaches the boiling point—regardless of how it is measured in Fahrenheit or Celsius or no measure at all— the change occurs. Continue reading
Author Archives: Hailley Fargo
Le Dejeuner Sur L’Herbe — Richard Donnelly
just like Manet’s famous painting let’s get Caroline to come with us to Afton State Park and take off her clothes while we have a picnic in the grass Continue reading
Home Comforts — Anthony Arnott
Silent Gift — Robert Karaszi
Midnight clanged when her spiraling silhouette anchored down. Tethered to indomitable irons your mother’s choice to kill herself, left your world to me. Continue reading
Oh, to be a fine, young trailblazer — Brian Collier
When I think back to my life on the road I’ll remember how the stars’ spitfire necklaced a lake sky and how I chose then to carry this suitcase of loneliness across the country with me like I was selling it door to door, across state lines, like it was my only means of making … Continue reading
Can You Smell It? — Patrick Johnson
Engulfed by a disintegrating armchair Before a greyhound-gnawed coffee table I played chess with my grandfather. Continue reading
ril Morning On Long Beach – Gloucester, Massachusetts — Michael Carrino
. . .our world explained, even with bad reasons, is familiar. -Camus Echoes curl over this blistered lee shore – tinge lush memories. Waves roil as words, as time, uncertainty chilled by heavy rain. Sisyphus endured his refrain–hard labor over and again without hope for lighter stone, shorter hill, absurd, yet wonderful in his exhaustion. Continue reading
& where do we go? — Tom Pescatore
He turns his head expectantly expecting her not to reach the door—for the door—of other voices & lines all mashed and troubled and fed eggs bacon sausage bread pancakes toast Easter post-church, warped through concrete & glass lenses to the outside—blockade— who’s thinking?—where does all this death go?— into that ground he knows—& gone to … Continue reading
Some Change for the Time Man — Tom Pescatore
Anchor me down with the past… I’m a floating helium-centric goon of the heavens babbling incoherent love songs to the sick— oh well, it was a mighty cause when I fought it, when I remembered what it was, but now I’m ground up in old groundhog day senility starting 8 hours behind the sun and … Continue reading
At the Bar Full of Rotting Animals — Darien Cavanaugh
The sock-eye, the painted deer, the Sisyphian dung beetle come here to die while still fat and horny, sucking up the wheat and the mold, the yesterday and the story of the giant beaver that gazed across a thin river but wouldn’t swim, so it sat there bone dry and wasted until everyone laughed and … Continue reading
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