issue 14.1

Lament Beginning With A Line From Khaled Mattawa I have fallen into the embrace of my own rugged innocencelistener who suffers, in my innocence I’ve...

Like a Word on the Tip of Your Tongue When you drop from the pullup bar onto the old wooden stoop of your cabin in...

Tearjerker Downspout from the gargoyle’s mouth, a city’s sediment that escaped quenching. What once was rainwater through a most baffling sequence of events               is now blood. The metamorphosis explained by the days...

Sleep: A Report Oh, elusive lullaby of the body, porthole into the brain’s watery depths, last night you had me fretting over deadlines again— deadlines, what a term to carry...

survivor’s guilt Does x imitate y? x | y x = I smoke microchips. To catch a ride to myself; to tune the healing frequency. y = The...

Self-Image O tyranny of reflective surfaces. She glimpsed herself in the mall’s plate-glass entrance, her mirror-image lumbering along. “That’s not me, that’s the opposite of...

The Editor Attempts Bailar I dance flamenco the way a giraffestaggers after being shot with a tranquilizer.I dance flamenco only slightly more gracefullythan my washing...

The Red Notebook Most Sundays I do a long run in the morning. A distant train sounds its regular lament. Oncoming cars swing their headlights...

April 22: Birthday of Charles Mingus and Louise Glück “writing is a kind of revenge against circumstance” –Louise Glück Days bop along atop each other   like ragtag treetops  or like highway-side...

Under Artificial Light For a second the shadow        watered a stain on the paper. You gave me    these words  so I must’ve nudged...