November 2024
Issue 89
November 2024
Issue 89
Medium: Clay
Poetry
Julie Benesh
“Blumensprache (or Self Portrait as Purple Thistle),” “My Words,” and “Noir”
Because dandelions were taken; ditto orchids
(each a bookend on the hardy-to-fragile spectrum).
Because I don’t compete with or covet the rich
and shallow soil but trade in the depths of mingled roots.
Jonathan Bessette
“If we couldn’t get it right the first time, then let’s forget it,” “If the balancing act was uneven, then let’s tip the scales,” and “If deconstruction is a love language, then let’s burn it to the ground”
shards, in backyard rituals
we stared at a bleaching dot
of sun, hoped tanning might
remind us of no—bad—days. I told you
Celeste Bloom
“home was looking at you,” “My Apologetic Elegy,” and “My Father And The Souvenir”
in the shape of this poem, that fits only you.
Home was the way you described every color:
hunter green, sunset orange, and midnight blue.
RW Mayer
“Being,” “After,” and “Hunting”
along the back of our property. I could crawl
in under the leaves and branches to the middle.
Joanne Jagoda
“Basking” “My Valentine’s Day,” and “Indian Summer Twilight from my Balcony”
of a poem set aside, long forgotten
the warm glow of verses once familiar
comfort like a soothing bath
taking you back
to another time and place
Christine Andersen
“Streetlight,” “Sudden Branch Syndrome,” and “Clock”
from my bedroom window
as the snow fell in a waterfall of white
under the glow of the streetlight,
a suburban beacon shining
on my narrow side road.
Bartłomiej Lekan
“Journey Through the Realms of Night,” “Mind-full-ness,” and “North”
I walked as in a dreaming.
Over the black seas I yearned to be,
Where the old stars were still bright and gleaming.
Julie Benesh
“Blumensprache (or Self Portrait as Purple Thistle),” “My Words,” and “Noir”
Because dandelions were taken; ditto orchids
(each a bookend on the hardy-to-fragile spectrum).
Because I don’t compete with or covet the rich
and shallow soil but trade in the depths of mingled roots.
Jonathan Bessette
“If we couldn’t get it right the first time, then let’s forget it,” “If the balancing act was uneven, then let’s tip the scales,” and “If deconstruction is a love language, then let’s burn it to the ground”
shards, in backyard rituals
we stared at a bleaching dot
of sun, hoped tanning might
remind us of no—bad—days. I told you
Celeste Bloom
“home was looking at you,” “My Apologetic Elegy,” and “My Father And The Souvenir”
in the shape of this poem, that fits only you.
Home was the way you described every color:
hunter green, sunset orange, and midnight blue.
RW Mayer
“Being,” “After,” and “Hunting”
along the back of our property. I could crawl
in under the leaves and branches to the middle.
Joanne Jagoda
“Basking” “My Valentine’s Day,” and “Indian Summer Twilight from my Balcony”
of a poem set aside, long forgotten
the warm glow of verses once familiar
comfort like a soothing bath
taking you back
to another time and place
Christine Andersen
“Streetlight,” “Sudden Branch Syndrome,” and “Clock”
from my bedroom window
as the snow fell in a waterfall of white
under the glow of the streetlight,
a suburban beacon shining
on my narrow side road.
Bartłomiej Lekan
“Journey Through the Realms of Night,” “Mind-full-ness,” and “North”
I walked as in a dreaming.
Over the black seas I yearned to be,
Where the old stars were still bright and gleaming.
Poetry
Julie Benesh
“Blumensprache (or Self Portrait as Purple Thistle),” “My Words,” and “Noir”
Because dandelions were taken; ditto orchids
(each a bookend on the hardy-to-fragile spectrum).
Because I don’t compete with or covet the rich
and shallow soil but trade in the depths of mingled roots.
Jonathan Bessette
“If we couldn’t get it right the first time, then let’s forget it,” “If the balancing act was uneven, then let’s tip the scales,” and “If deconstruction is a love language, then let’s burn it to the ground”
shards, in backyard rituals
we stared at a bleaching dot
of sun, hoped tanning might
remind us of no—bad—days. I told you
Celeste Bloom
“home was looking at you,” “My Apologetic Elegy,” and “My Father And The Souvenir”
in the shape of this poem, that fits only you.
Home was the way you described every color:
hunter green, sunset orange, and midnight blue.
RW Mayer
“Being,” “After,” and “Hunting”
along the back of our property. I could crawl
in under the leaves and branches to the middle.
Joanne Jagoda
“Basking” “My Valentine’s Day,” and “Indian Summer Twilight from my Balcony”
of a poem set aside, long forgotten
the warm glow of verses once familiar
comfort like a soothing bath
taking you back
to another time and place
Christine Andersen
“Streetlight,” “Sudden Branch Syndrome,” and “Clock”
from my bedroom window
as the snow fell in a waterfall of white
under the glow of the streetlight,
a suburban beacon shining
on my narrow side road.
Bartłomiej Lekan
“Journey Through the Realms of Night,” “Mind-full-ness,” and “North”
I walked as in a dreaming.
Over the black seas I yearned to be,
Where the old stars were still bright and gleaming.
Fiction
New Fiction
Randy Kraft
The Violinist
Renee Roberson
DEADline
Douglas Nordfors
The Real Story
Peter Newall
A House of Cards
Stan Werlin
Dandelion
Quin Yen
Rules
Dr. Wu has worked as a Rehab physician in the hospital in Texas for a few years. A few weeks ago, her department chief, only in his fifties, suddenly left.
Randy Kraft
The Violinist
Renee Roberson
DEADline
Douglas Nordfors
The Real Story
Peter Newall
A House of Cards
Stan Werlin
Dandelion
Quin Yen
Rules
Dr. Wu has worked as a Rehab physician in the hospital in Texas for a few years. A few weeks ago, her department chief, only in his fifties, suddenly left.
Randy Kraft
The Violinist
Renee Roberson
DEADline
Douglas Nordfors
The Real Story
Peter Newall
A House of Cards
Stan Werlin
Dandelion
Quin Yen
Rules
Dr. Wu has worked as a Rehab physician in the hospital in Texas for a few years. A few weeks ago, her department chief, only in his fifties, suddenly left.
Ashley Christopher Leach
Arthur’s Secret Show
Christine Marra
Better Than Fine
“Get up,” I whisper, crouching on the concrete, grasping the bars with fingers picked raw and bloody. I consider rapping the bars with the key — the precious key!— but I don’t dare. The guard might be a light sleeper.
Ashley Christopher Leach
Arthur’s Secret Show
Christine Marra
Better Than Fine
“Get up,” I whisper, crouching on the concrete, grasping the bars with fingers picked raw and bloody. I consider rapping the bars with the key — the precious key!— but I don’t dare. The guard might be a light sleeper.
Ashley Christopher Leach
Arthur’s Secret Show
Christine Marra
Better Than Fine
“Get up,” I whisper, crouching on the concrete, grasping the bars with fingers picked raw and bloody. I consider rapping the bars with the key — the precious key!— but I don’t dare. The guard might be a light sleeper.
Fiction
Ashley Christopher Leach
Arthur’s Secret Show
Christine Marra
Better Than Fine
“Get up,” I whisper, crouching on the concrete, grasping the bars with fingers picked raw and bloody. I consider rapping the bars with the key — the precious key!— but I don’t dare. The guard might be a light sleeper.
Randy Kraft
The Violinist
Renee Roberson
DEADline
Douglas Nordfors
The Real Story
Peter Newall
A House of Cards
Stan Werlin
Dandelion
Quin Yen
Rules
Dr. Wu has worked as a Rehab physician in the hospital in Texas for a few years. A few weeks ago, her department chief, only in his fifties, suddenly left.
Art
Novel Chapters
Novel Chapters
David Kennedy
The Gilded Cage
Forever Gnawing at My ChainsChad Gusler
Requiem
Agnus Dei {Goshen, Ind.}L. Vocem
The Air Beneath Her Feet
David Kennedy
The Gilded Cage
Chad Gusler
Requiem
L. Vocem
The Air Beneath Her Feet
Novel chapters
David Kennedy
The Gilded Cage
Chad Gusler
Requiem
L. Vocem
The Air Beneath Her Feet
Nonfiction
Celeste Bloom
Mothers and Monsters: Adapting to Queer Immigrant Trauma in On Earth We’re Briefly Gorgeous (2019)
Trelaine Ito
It’s about process.
Mark Hall
Pandemic Dog
Steve Bernstein
The Last Hustle
Celeste Bloom
Mothers and Monsters: Adapting to Queer Immigrant Trauma in On Earth We’re Briefly Gorgeous (2019)
Trelaine Ito
It’s about process.
Mark Hall
Pandemic Dog
Steve Bernstein
The Last Hustle
Celeste Bloom
Mothers and Monsters: Adapting to Queer Immigrant Trauma in On Earth We’re Briefly Gorgeous (2019)
Trelaine Ito
It’s about process.
Mark Hall
Pandemic Dog
Steve Bernstein
The Last Hustle
Nonfiction
Celeste Bloom
Mothers and Monsters: Adapting to Queer Immigrant Trauma in On Earth We’re Briefly Gorgeous (2019)
Trelaine Ito
It’s about process.
Mark Hall
Pandemic Dog
Steve Bernstein