Confessions Travis Park __________ Beneath the soft glow of streetlights fading,A revelation whispers, threading through our ordinary world.The park, a familiar canvas, now painted with uncertainty.Her eyes, a mosaic of joy and quiet turmoil,Hold a story yet unfolded, veiled in their depths.The air, thick with the scent of anticipation,Leaves me…
Read MoreAncestral Bed William Miller __________ In the country, there were fewand no one ever slept alone. A strawor chicken-feather mattress was for lean,tired men home from the field,the time between “cain’t see and cain’t see”,for women with hands burned by lye soap,feet blistered by bad ill-fitting shoes.Babies were born there,…
Read MoreLast Night, I Prayed for Peace Jeric Olay __________ Last night, I prayed for peace. But my prayer, I suspect, seems inconceivably large. As I woke up, I paced for the window. From where I stood, everything was christened with wonted quiet. I looked at the bougain- villea that grew on the casserole. Its…
Read MoreThe Specter in the Tadpole Room Brigid Cawley __________ The kids playing with blocks this morning built a fire station, a castle, and a temple for Belphegor. Miriam and I look at each other knowingly when Danny explains his temple to us. We could have told you two days ago…
Read MoreCapitalist Necktie Jeffrey H. MacLachlan __________ Treasure Chest comic book Vol.17 No.2 This is a dad tie.This is a straight tie.This is a glum blue tie. This tie mows over tax dependents.This tie hangs from ironed dress shirts.This tie never squirms when belting offspring. This tie tithes at Father Ryan’s…
Read MoreMa never talks about the day my twin sister died— Tara Isabel Zambrano __________ instead she puts on rainbow dresses on me she sewed for her, the quilt that’s embroidered with her name on my torso, instead she never trims my hair and all the boys in the neighborhood…
Read MoreSundown[ing] Jillee Sexton __________ For the past five years, I’ve woken up at exactly 6 p.m. and consumed two pints of blood from the industrial fridge that sits in the equally industrial kitchen of the house that’s supposed to be mine. The blood is colder than ice every time it…
Read MoreCrestview Way, October 1985 Victoria Lancelotta __________ It’s Saturday night almost Sunday morning when Jimmy and Abby do it. They’re at Ryan from AP European History’s house, the front door open and the back patio slicked with spilled beer, an October wind spinning wood smoke and brittle leaves. The party’s…
Read More