Aaron Brand ~ Three Poems

Bus Poem 4

Just out of Cheyenne, a Greyhound keeps pace
with a VW Bug, yel­low, this girl’s suit­case
down below, full of match­es, bub­blegum,
pink socks, cig­a­rettes
and stud­ded leather belts.

The punch of sun­rise wipes
the guy in black jeans, white shirt,
the one she sniffed out
at the last truck stop.
He sleeps now, face a total blank,
doz­ing with the oth­er pas­sen­gers.

The Chevron sta­tion

Gail Louise Siegel ~ Betrayed


The harp sits in the cor­ner gath­er­ing dust, ever since Petra’s dog Maisy got spooked by rustling in the corn­field. A pos­sum? A snake? Petra had reached down to calm the mar­ble-eyed wolf-shep­ard mix she’d cod­dled from a pup, and lost of a chunk of fin­ger in a fren­zy of growls, barks, lunges, snap­ping jaws.

The dri­ve to the hos­pi­tal dragged in slow motion, Petra squint­ing through the grimy wind­shield, –more

Tiff Holland ~ Candy Striper

Mom had already signed me up to be a can­dy striper by the time she and O’Toole picked me up at Robinson Memorial.

You need to think about those less for­tu­nate,” she said, as I scratched at the stitch­es on my wrists. “You need to think of some­one oth­er than your­self.”

I knew that what she actu­al­ly meant was that I need­ed to think about her. She didn’t know just how much I thought of her, –more

Pamela Painter ~ Off Stage

The first day of Playwriting 320, I open the door to the class­room and nod hel­lo to four­teen stu­dents with expec­tant faces, weird garb, new tat­toos. Earlier today, I con­sid­ered ask­ing my TA to pass out my syl­labi, make intro­duc­tions, assign home­work.  I con­sid­ered not leav­ing my sister’s hos­pi­tal room where any day or week now she will sure­ly die. But a pro­fes­sor her­self, she –more