A Typical Day in the Life of Love JC Reilly __________ Love crawls from a holelike a mouse in the pantry;beware its droppings. Love seeks its shadow behind its back but can’t turn fast enough to see. Love hangs its sheet ona line in the morning sun.It snaps with the…
Read MoreSagittarius A* Rohan Buettel __________ There is a hole in the heart of my galaxy;supermassive and black; no light emitsin any event from below the horizon.It sits in the snowy wastes of the Milky Way,dense with star clusters and interstellar nebulae.The absence keeps growing —no matter how much falls in,…
Read MoreWhere is the Answer? Caryn Mirriam-Goldberg __________ Is it in the speech of the streetlight,so determined to streak its starof orange insistence in the fog? Is it wherever the hummingbird goesto stillness on a perch in the forestacross the street from the old houses? Or is it the houses themselves,…
Read MoreSubmitting John Grey __________ We could all send blood, a few drops of the red stuff in a tiny corked tube. But how would the editor isolate the worthy from the doggerel? Not a pound of flesh. Editors aren’t Shylocks. But maybe an ounce or two. Like a little finger…
Read MoreThere’s a Strand Dustin Radke __________ There’s a strand of uncurly hair that weaveditself through your bandana and fell just tothe right of your smile. Not to be too poetic,but it disobeyed the river of your hair and ledme straight to your smile, and now I miss you.I wonder how…
Read MoreEverything Lynne Schmidt __________ A husband hears of his family’s death when their bodies make the front page of American newspapers. He recognizes their clothes, their luggage, before the jagged knife of realization sets in. And then he recognizes his wife, his daughter, his son, his dogs. He cries, “They…
Read MoreIt has been a decade ago
when we had our first dance.
In what took the semblance of,
crepuscular happenstance.
My Football Team is Winning (III) Dorsey Craft __________ And my granddaddy’s still dead. He swatsan almighty yellow jacket from a star-soakedcan of Coke while our tailgate moves fartherout on the asphalt grid. We’ve got a healthylead. We’ve got a blond quarterback with eyeslike the last two red salmon pouting…
Read MoreAt Toomer’s Corner, the Morning After the Iron Bowl (2019) In memory of Pat Sullivan Raye Hendrix __________ An autumn sun, expected, rises;steals darkness from between the stars to illuminate the streets and avenues—College and Magnolia brilliant white with billowing paper, a southern substitutefor snow: live oaks cloaked from trunk…
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