November 2024

Issue 89

November 2024

Issue 89

The Cluster by Aleksandra Scepanovic
Medium: Clay

Poetry


Featured image for ““Blumensprache (or Self Portrait as Purple Thistle),” “My Words,” and “Noir””

Julie Benesh

“Blumensprache (or Self Portrait as Purple Thistle),” “My Words,” and “Noir”

Because my head is full of one hundred flowers.
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.
Poetry
Featured image for ““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””

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”

Lying amidst terra cotta
shards, in backyard rituals
we stared at a bleaching dot
of sun, hoped tanning might
remind us of no—bad—days. I told you
Poetry
Featured image for ““home was looking at you,” “My Apologetic Elegy,” and “My Father And The Souvenir””

Celeste Bloom

“home was looking at you,” “My Apologetic Elegy,” and “My Father And The Souvenir”

Home is a mold, that I cast upon you
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.
Poetry
Featured image for ““Being,” “After,” and “Hunting””

RW Mayer

“Being,” “After,” and “Hunting”

When I was a child I went out to the long hedge
along the back of our property. I could crawl
in under the leaves and branches to the middle.
Poetry
Featured image for ““Basking” “My Valentine’s Day,” and “Indian Summer Twilight from my Balcony””

Joanne Jagoda

“Basking” “My Valentine’s Day,” and “Indian Summer Twilight from my Balcony”

basking in the words
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
Poetry
Featured image for ““Streetlight,” “Sudden Branch Syndrome,” and “Clock””

Christine Andersen

“Streetlight,” “Sudden Branch Syndrome,” and “Clock”

I would wake and watch
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.
Poetry
Featured image for ““Journey Through the Realms of Night,” “Mind-full-ness,” and “North””

Bartłomiej Lekan

“Journey Through the Realms of Night,” “Mind-full-ness,” and “North”

Two days after the moon was full
I walked as in a dreaming.
Over the black seas I yearned to be,
Where the old stars were still bright and gleaming.
Poetry
Featured image for ““Blumensprache (or Self Portrait as Purple Thistle),” “My Words,” and “Noir””

Julie Benesh

“Blumensprache (or Self Portrait as Purple Thistle),” “My Words,” and “Noir”

Because my head is full of one hundred flowers.
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.
Poetry
Featured image for ““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””

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”

Lying amidst terra cotta
shards, in backyard rituals
we stared at a bleaching dot
of sun, hoped tanning might
remind us of no—bad—days. I told you
Poetry
Featured image for ““home was looking at you,” “My Apologetic Elegy,” and “My Father And The Souvenir””

Celeste Bloom

“home was looking at you,” “My Apologetic Elegy,” and “My Father And The Souvenir”

Home is a mold, that I cast upon you
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.
Poetry
Featured image for ““Being,” “After,” and “Hunting””

RW Mayer

“Being,” “After,” and “Hunting”

When I was a child I went out to the long hedge
along the back of our property. I could crawl
in under the leaves and branches to the middle.
Poetry
Featured image for ““Basking” “My Valentine’s Day,” and “Indian Summer Twilight from my Balcony””

Joanne Jagoda

“Basking” “My Valentine’s Day,” and “Indian Summer Twilight from my Balcony”

basking in the words
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
Poetry
Featured image for ““Streetlight,” “Sudden Branch Syndrome,” and “Clock””

Christine Andersen

“Streetlight,” “Sudden Branch Syndrome,” and “Clock”

I would wake and watch
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.
Poetry
Featured image for ““Journey Through the Realms of Night,” “Mind-full-ness,” and “North””

Bartłomiej Lekan

“Journey Through the Realms of Night,” “Mind-full-ness,” and “North”

Two days after the moon was full
I walked as in a dreaming.
Over the black seas I yearned to be,
Where the old stars were still bright and gleaming.
Poetry

Poetry


Featured image for ““Blumensprache (or Self Portrait as Purple Thistle),” “My Words,” and “Noir””

Julie Benesh

“Blumensprache (or Self Portrait as Purple Thistle),” “My Words,” and “Noir”

Because my head is full of one hundred flowers.
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.
Poetry
Featured image for ““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””

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”

Lying amidst terra cotta
shards, in backyard rituals
we stared at a bleaching dot
of sun, hoped tanning might
remind us of no—bad—days. I told you
Poetry
Featured image for ““home was looking at you,” “My Apologetic Elegy,” and “My Father And The Souvenir””

Celeste Bloom

“home was looking at you,” “My Apologetic Elegy,” and “My Father And The Souvenir”

Home is a mold, that I cast upon you
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.
Poetry
Featured image for ““Being,” “After,” and “Hunting””

RW Mayer

“Being,” “After,” and “Hunting”

When I was a child I went out to the long hedge
along the back of our property. I could crawl
in under the leaves and branches to the middle.
Poetry
Featured image for ““Basking” “My Valentine’s Day,” and “Indian Summer Twilight from my Balcony””

Joanne Jagoda

“Basking” “My Valentine’s Day,” and “Indian Summer Twilight from my Balcony”

basking in the words
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
Poetry
Featured image for ““Streetlight,” “Sudden Branch Syndrome,” and “Clock””

Christine Andersen

“Streetlight,” “Sudden Branch Syndrome,” and “Clock”

I would wake and watch
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.
Poetry
Featured image for ““Journey Through the Realms of Night,” “Mind-full-ness,” and “North””

Bartłomiej Lekan

“Journey Through the Realms of Night,” “Mind-full-ness,” and “North”

Two days after the moon was full
I walked as in a dreaming.
Over the black seas I yearned to be,
Where the old stars were still bright and gleaming.
Poetry

Fiction

New Fiction

Featured image for “The Violinist”

Randy Kraft

The Violinist

Bill returned home after a particularly strenuous workday to find Loretta in the living room nose to nose in conversation with a stranger. Rather than interrupt, or inquire what was going on, he observed from the doorway.
Short Story
Featured image for “DEADline”

Renee Roberson

DEADline

Cordelia Cates stepped out onto her deck overlooking the lake as she cradled her coffee cup, which had more than a splash of Bailey’s Irish Cream added in for good measure. She sighed as she wrapped her cardigan around her with the other hand and surveyed the red clouds overhead.
Short Story
Featured image for “The Real Story”

Douglas Nordfors

The Real Story

The situation was this: Bret’s ringing phone had woken him up just before daybreak. Jeff, his once fairly close, but now hardly close friend, sounding frantic, had asked him to meet him. Bret had said he would and asked where, and Jeff had calmed down enough to give him clear directions.
Short Story
Featured image for “A House of Cards”

Peter Newall

A House of Cards

When Nataliya had finished the last crumbs of her cake, I paid the bill and we left the café, the bell tinkling as the door closed behind us. At half past four, the grey winter afternoon had already turned to night. I offered Nataliya my arm, as the cobbled street was slippery with frozen snow.
Short Story
Featured image for “Dandelion”

Stan Werlin

Dandelion

It’s almost midnight when they leave the beach, tired, thirsty, still too high from the freely flowing weed. They’re jammed into Ed’s aging blue Volkswagen, Lisbeth up front, Jonathan and Denise crowbarred into the tiny back seat as they head onto the Mid-Cape Highway for the trip back to Manhattan from Truro.
Short Story
Featured image for “Rules”

Quin Yen

Rules

If this is not a meat bun from heaven, Dr. Wu doesn’t know what would it be. A meat bun from heaven (天上掉馅饼) is a Chinese saying, meaning pure luck.
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.
Short Story
Featured image for “The Violinist”

Randy Kraft

The Violinist

Bill returned home after a particularly strenuous workday to find Loretta in the living room nose to nose in conversation with a stranger. Rather than interrupt, or inquire what was going on, he observed from the doorway.
Short Story
Featured image for “DEADline”

Renee Roberson

DEADline

Cordelia Cates stepped out onto her deck overlooking the lake as she cradled her coffee cup, which had more than a splash of Bailey’s Irish Cream added in for good measure. She sighed as she wrapped her cardigan around her with the other hand and surveyed the red clouds overhead.
Short Story
Featured image for “The Real Story”

Douglas Nordfors

The Real Story

The situation was this: Bret’s ringing phone had woken him up just before daybreak. Jeff, his once fairly close, but now hardly close friend, sounding frantic, had asked him to meet him. Bret had said he would and asked where, and Jeff had calmed down enough to give him clear directions.
Short Story
Featured image for “A House of Cards”

Peter Newall

A House of Cards

When Nataliya had finished the last crumbs of her cake, I paid the bill and we left the café, the bell tinkling as the door closed behind us. At half past four, the grey winter afternoon had already turned to night. I offered Nataliya my arm, as the cobbled street was slippery with frozen snow.
Short Story
Featured image for “Dandelion”

Stan Werlin

Dandelion

It’s almost midnight when they leave the beach, tired, thirsty, still too high from the freely flowing weed. They’re jammed into Ed’s aging blue Volkswagen, Lisbeth up front, Jonathan and Denise crowbarred into the tiny back seat as they head onto the Mid-Cape Highway for the trip back to Manhattan from Truro.
Short Story
Featured image for “Rules”

Quin Yen

Rules

If this is not a meat bun from heaven, Dr. Wu doesn’t know what would it be. A meat bun from heaven (天上掉馅饼) is a Chinese saying, meaning pure luck.
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.
Short Story
Featured image for “The Violinist”

Randy Kraft

The Violinist

Bill returned home after a particularly strenuous workday to find Loretta in the living room nose to nose in conversation with a stranger. Rather than interrupt, or inquire what was going on, he observed from the doorway.
Short Story
Featured image for “DEADline”

Renee Roberson

DEADline

Cordelia Cates stepped out onto her deck overlooking the lake as she cradled her coffee cup, which had more than a splash of Bailey’s Irish Cream added in for good measure. She sighed as she wrapped her cardigan around her with the other hand and surveyed the red clouds overhead.
Short Story
Featured image for “The Real Story”

Douglas Nordfors

The Real Story

The situation was this: Bret’s ringing phone had woken him up just before daybreak. Jeff, his once fairly close, but now hardly close friend, sounding frantic, had asked him to meet him. Bret had said he would and asked where, and Jeff had calmed down enough to give him clear directions.
Short Story
Featured image for “A House of Cards”

Peter Newall

A House of Cards

When Nataliya had finished the last crumbs of her cake, I paid the bill and we left the café, the bell tinkling as the door closed behind us. At half past four, the grey winter afternoon had already turned to night. I offered Nataliya my arm, as the cobbled street was slippery with frozen snow.
Short Story
Featured image for “Dandelion”

Stan Werlin

Dandelion

It’s almost midnight when they leave the beach, tired, thirsty, still too high from the freely flowing weed. They’re jammed into Ed’s aging blue Volkswagen, Lisbeth up front, Jonathan and Denise crowbarred into the tiny back seat as they head onto the Mid-Cape Highway for the trip back to Manhattan from Truro.
Short Story
Featured image for “Rules”

Quin Yen

Rules

If this is not a meat bun from heaven, Dr. Wu doesn’t know what would it be. A meat bun from heaven (天上掉馅饼) is a Chinese saying, meaning pure luck.
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.
Short Story

Fiction


Featured image for “Arthur’s Secret Show”

Ashley Christopher Leach

Arthur’s Secret Show

Miss Beulah was not worried about a few dead feral cats, especially the ones that had lived for years in her woodpile before they met their sanguinary demise. She had discovered them gruesomely slaughtered with violent gashes to their necks just after a weak, late autumn hurricane had wreaked havoc on her yard and flooded her collard patch. Apart from believing that a bobcat had done the killing, her only real concern was removing the corpses from her yard. But a week later …
Long Short Story
Featured image for “Better Than Fine”

Christine Marra

Better Than Fine

June 1941
“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.
Long Short Story
Featured image for “The Violinist”

Randy Kraft

The Violinist

Bill returned home after a particularly strenuous workday to find Loretta in the living room nose to nose in conversation with a stranger. Rather than interrupt, or inquire what was going on, he observed from the doorway.
Short Story
Featured image for “DEADline”

Renee Roberson

DEADline

Cordelia Cates stepped out onto her deck overlooking the lake as she cradled her coffee cup, which had more than a splash of Bailey’s Irish Cream added in for good measure. She sighed as she wrapped her cardigan around her with the other hand and surveyed the red clouds overhead.
Short Story
Featured image for “The Real Story”

Douglas Nordfors

The Real Story

The situation was this: Bret’s ringing phone had woken him up just before daybreak. Jeff, his once fairly close, but now hardly close friend, sounding frantic, had asked him to meet him. Bret had said he would and asked where, and Jeff had calmed down enough to give him clear directions.
Short Story
Featured image for “A House of Cards”

Peter Newall

A House of Cards

When Nataliya had finished the last crumbs of her cake, I paid the bill and we left the café, the bell tinkling as the door closed behind us. At half past four, the grey winter afternoon had already turned to night. I offered Nataliya my arm, as the cobbled street was slippery with frozen snow.
Short Story
Featured image for “Dandelion”

Stan Werlin

Dandelion

It’s almost midnight when they leave the beach, tired, thirsty, still too high from the freely flowing weed. They’re jammed into Ed’s aging blue Volkswagen, Lisbeth up front, Jonathan and Denise crowbarred into the tiny back seat as they head onto the Mid-Cape Highway for the trip back to Manhattan from Truro.
Short Story
Featured image for “Rules”

Quin Yen

Rules

If this is not a meat bun from heaven, Dr. Wu doesn’t know what would it be. A meat bun from heaven (天上掉馅饼) is a Chinese saying, meaning pure luck.
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.
Short Story

Novel Chapters

Novel Chapters

Nonfiction

Featured image for “Mothers and Monsters: Adapting to Queer Immigrant Trauma in <em>On Earth We’re Briefly Gorgeous</em> (2019)”

Celeste Bloom

Mothers and Monsters: Adapting to Queer Immigrant Trauma in On Earth We’re Briefly Gorgeous (2019)

Due to historical persecution of queer individuals, trauma pervades queer lives, communities, and literary representation. Given the prevalence of trauma in queer narratives, can queer protagonists define themselves beyond the atrocities they face? In his epistolary novel, On Earth We’re Briefly Gorgeous (2019), Ocean Vuong demonstrates that while trauma fundamentally shapes the queer Vietnamese American protagonist, Little Dog, he is equally defined by his response.
Essay
Featured image for “It’s about process.”

Trelaine Ito

It’s about process.

I find myself lying down on my bathroom floor again, staring at the underside of my sink, talking to my inner self. It’s only two years. Two years and then we’re done. (Why I refer to my inner self as a “we” requires a lengthy psychological profile not relevant to this particular story, but it’s often because I view my internal voice as a separate being…
Essay
Featured image for “Pandemic Dog”

Mark Hall

Pandemic Dog

When Tibby arrived on her first night with us, we let her out into the fenced backyard. On the steps, she paused for an instant, ears up, nose twitching, poised like an Olympic sprinter in the starting blocks. In the twilight, something caught her eye. Slowly, she stalked, like a panther, into the grass. Then she dashed, disappearing under the arborvitae. In a moment, Tibby emerged, triumphant, shaking a small rabbit between her jaws.
Creative Nonfiction
Featured image for “The Last Hustle”

Steve Bernstein

The Last Hustle

August, and the PS.104 schoolyard was empty. A good thing. Gave me a chance to develop my pitching arm. And avoid trouble. As a white kid in the South Bronx in 1967, trouble had a way of finding me.
Creative Nonfiction
Featured image for “Mothers and Monsters: Adapting to Queer Immigrant Trauma in <em>On Earth We’re Briefly Gorgeous</em> (2019)”

Celeste Bloom

Mothers and Monsters: Adapting to Queer Immigrant Trauma in On Earth We’re Briefly Gorgeous (2019)

Due to historical persecution of queer individuals, trauma pervades queer lives, communities, and literary representation. Given the prevalence of trauma in queer narratives, can queer protagonists define themselves beyond the atrocities they face? In his epistolary novel, On Earth We’re Briefly Gorgeous (2019), Ocean Vuong demonstrates that while trauma fundamentally shapes the queer Vietnamese American protagonist, Little Dog, he is equally defined by his response.
Essay
Featured image for “It’s about process.”

Trelaine Ito

It’s about process.

I find myself lying down on my bathroom floor again, staring at the underside of my sink, talking to my inner self. It’s only two years. Two years and then we’re done. (Why I refer to my inner self as a “we” requires a lengthy psychological profile not relevant to this particular story, but it’s often because I view my internal voice as a separate being…
Essay
Featured image for “Pandemic Dog”

Mark Hall

Pandemic Dog

When Tibby arrived on her first night with us, we let her out into the fenced backyard. On the steps, she paused for an instant, ears up, nose twitching, poised like an Olympic sprinter in the starting blocks. In the twilight, something caught her eye. Slowly, she stalked, like a panther, into the grass. Then she dashed, disappearing under the arborvitae. In a moment, Tibby emerged, triumphant, shaking a small rabbit between her jaws.
Creative Nonfiction
Featured image for “The Last Hustle”

Steve Bernstein

The Last Hustle

August, and the PS.104 schoolyard was empty. A good thing. Gave me a chance to develop my pitching arm. And avoid trouble. As a white kid in the South Bronx in 1967, trouble had a way of finding me.
Creative Nonfiction
Featured image for “Mothers and Monsters: Adapting to Queer Immigrant Trauma in <em>On Earth We’re Briefly Gorgeous</em> (2019)”

Celeste Bloom

Mothers and Monsters: Adapting to Queer Immigrant Trauma in On Earth We’re Briefly Gorgeous (2019)

Due to historical persecution of queer individuals, trauma pervades queer lives, communities, and literary representation. Given the prevalence of trauma in queer narratives, can queer protagonists define themselves beyond the atrocities they face? In his epistolary novel, On Earth We’re Briefly Gorgeous (2019), Ocean Vuong demonstrates that while trauma fundamentally shapes the queer Vietnamese American protagonist, Little Dog, he is equally defined by his response.
Essay
Featured image for “It’s about process.”

Trelaine Ito

It’s about process.

I find myself lying down on my bathroom floor again, staring at the underside of my sink, talking to my inner self. It’s only two years. Two years and then we’re done. (Why I refer to my inner self as a “we” requires a lengthy psychological profile not relevant to this particular story, but it’s often because I view my internal voice as a separate being…
Essay
Featured image for “Pandemic Dog”

Mark Hall

Pandemic Dog

When Tibby arrived on her first night with us, we let her out into the fenced backyard. On the steps, she paused for an instant, ears up, nose twitching, poised like an Olympic sprinter in the starting blocks. In the twilight, something caught her eye. Slowly, she stalked, like a panther, into the grass. Then she dashed, disappearing under the arborvitae. In a moment, Tibby emerged, triumphant, shaking a small rabbit between her jaws.
Creative Nonfiction
Featured image for “The Last Hustle”

Steve Bernstein

The Last Hustle

August, and the PS.104 schoolyard was empty. A good thing. Gave me a chance to develop my pitching arm. And avoid trouble. As a white kid in the South Bronx in 1967, trouble had a way of finding me.
Creative Nonfiction

Nonfiction


Featured image for “Mothers and Monsters: Adapting to Queer Immigrant Trauma in <em>On Earth We’re Briefly Gorgeous</em> (2019)”

Celeste Bloom

Mothers and Monsters: Adapting to Queer Immigrant Trauma in On Earth We’re Briefly Gorgeous (2019)

Due to historical persecution of queer individuals, trauma pervades queer lives, communities, and literary representation. Given the prevalence of trauma in queer narratives, can queer protagonists define themselves beyond the atrocities they face? In his epistolary novel, On Earth We’re Briefly Gorgeous (2019), Ocean Vuong demonstrates that while trauma fundamentally shapes the queer Vietnamese American protagonist, Little Dog, he is equally defined by his response.
Essay
Featured image for “It’s about process.”

Trelaine Ito

It’s about process.

I find myself lying down on my bathroom floor again, staring at the underside of my sink, talking to my inner self. It’s only two years. Two years and then we’re done. (Why I refer to my inner self as a “we” requires a lengthy psychological profile not relevant to this particular story, but it’s often because I view my internal voice as a separate being…
Essay
Featured image for “Pandemic Dog”

Mark Hall

Pandemic Dog

When Tibby arrived on her first night with us, we let her out into the fenced backyard. On the steps, she paused for an instant, ears up, nose twitching, poised like an Olympic sprinter in the starting blocks. In the twilight, something caught her eye. Slowly, she stalked, like a panther, into the grass. Then she dashed, disappearing under the arborvitae. In a moment, Tibby emerged, triumphant, shaking a small rabbit between her jaws.
Creative Nonfiction
Featured image for “The Last Hustle”

Steve Bernstein

The Last Hustle

August, and the PS.104 schoolyard was empty. A good thing. Gave me a chance to develop my pitching arm. And avoid trouble. As a white kid in the South Bronx in 1967, trouble had a way of finding me.
Creative Nonfiction