• Stephanie Powell ~ Poems

    heat wave

    heat wave day. a mar­riage pro­pos­al between the moth and the win­dowsill. it hov­ers an inch in the air. trapped between peel­ing ledge and rigid wall of blinds — a suf­fo­cat­ing union.

    he, humanoid, top­less, wilts in the hot cen­tre of the room. like the –more

  • W.T. Pfefferle ~ Hard Looks

    I’ve just about had all I’m going to take from this place. In the morn­ings it’s fog­gy, the clouds come in at night, low, cov­er every­thing with dew and wet­ness. And then by the time the sun comes up it’s already hot, humid­i­ty bring­ing sweat to my fore­head. –more

  • Victoria Lancelotta ~ Misssive

    We parked our­selves on 26 acres in the woods on a lit­tle old moun­tain north of Myersville, MD in mid-March and only leave when absolute­ly nec­es­sary. Not much is nec­es­sary. Here we have assort­ed bod­i­ly vis­i­tors, plus Doug, who steals food from the birds, –more

  • Dan Crawley ~ Baked Potato

    In the entry­way, Debbie says, I have some­thing new to show you.

    I fig­ure it’s a 75” flat screen or a shiny car in the garage. Then she tells me it’s in her room. And I know she means a new way we can fuck. Then I hear her mom call out from the –more

  • Donovan Hufnagle ~ 5 Poems

    The Scourge and the Kiss

    Dear Gov. Rick Snyder,

    At age 74, I expect­ed my body to
    change. To wilt. To fade. But I’m
    a frail saltine spread with peanut
    but­ter just for good humor. I expect
    to fol­low road maps and rivers
    greater and longer than –more

  • Paul Van Sickle ~ The Overton window

    Outside my win­dow today it is rain­ing. Seven bum­ble­bees strug­gle against the drops. They strain to bear their own weight, emer­ald fronds of grass below ready to receive what pollen falls from their over­laden bod­ies, what hon­eyed –more

  • Philip Kienholz — Five Poems

    Triggers and Consequence

    Even con­fuza­tion­al cur­tains drawn aside
    manip­u­lat­ing the punch-up show stayed hid­den
    Fogged atmos­pheres, the con­coct­ed nar­ra­tives baf­fled audi­ences,
    dis­tract­ed atten­tion, fooled under­stand­ing the maraud­ing scenes,
    mutat­ing plots

    In mul­ti­pli­ca­tions of –more

  • Adam Day ~ Five Poems

    OFF THE PAGE

    Finding a way
    and life. Web

    of soil, words
    just nature’s

    bird silent
    body; petrel

    fly­ing under­wa­ter.
    From sink to riv­er

    we go qui­et­ly.

    ~

    SOMEWHERE AND NOWHERE

    Planning but set­tled,
    and close – tran­sit

    rooms, rain win­dows,
    num­ber­less rooms, mak­ing

    too many sen­tences. I
    start­ed –more

  • Charlie J. Stephens ~ The Owl People

    Not just beau­ti­ful, though—the stars are like the trees in the for­est, alive and breath­ing. And they’re watch­ing me.” Haruki Murakami

    From a dis­tance, the first thing I noticed about Claudette and her hus­band Ezra is they both radi­at­ed a strange, –more

  • Elisabeth Murawski ~ Five Poems

    Nature, Nurture, Andersen, Freud

    She’s not men­tioned in the tale—
    the ugly duckling’s real,
    as in bio­log­i­cal, moth­er.

    Did she look the oth­er way
    when a thief crept in to lift
    the pre­cious egg? Was she bribed

    with suc­cu­lent pondweeds
    to grant –more

  • Julia Forrest ~ 14 Photographs

  • Lois Marie Harrod ~ Three Poems

    The Heart Shows Signs

    You’re out of sync, dit­sy
    in the daisies, where did you think
    you were going? —bush­whacked and busy,

    the I am, I am, I am of your life … that … steady
    rhythm … start… bird star­tled stop …
    against your rib … cage –more

  • Sarah Mellinger ~ Elentiya

    ELENTIYA

    Sarah Mellinger recent­ly fin­ished her first orches­tral piece, Elentiya, which is sched­uled to be pre­miered by the Cleveland Chamber Symphony this com­ing fall. She is cur­rent­ly work­ing on adding more move­ments to her piece, –more

  • Gerald Kells ~ Three Poems

    My Father Playing Needle Nugent

    I would have been one years old
    and he would have been fifty
    when he played Needle Nugent
    in Juno and the Paycock for the
    Dramatic Society of University
    College London, the Foundation
    Play of 1960 — dur­ing the sec­ond
    –more

  • Pavle Radonic ~ Smooching Like There Was No Tomorrow

    A soak­ing tub was need­ed. How long had it been the fluffy white tow­el remain­ing unwashed, six months? a cou­ple years? Remember the last rushed stor­age, think­ing, next time, it can wait. Finally the Viet place in Paisley Street was recalled. Op Shops –more