by Bruce Dethlefsen | Sep 8, 2012 | Magazine Article
quick listen to the tick of ittonight not quitetomorrow yet my friendthe time will comewhen end is endedthe light on the blackand white linoleumno longer shineswhen I am diedand done will finallyrhyme with goneright now resign to fight or notwith all your mightthe...
by John Sierpinski | Sep 8, 2012 | Magazine Article
I roll awake in the half moon-shaped ditch. “Where the hell are my Kools, my Canadian Mist, the ice for Godsakes, yes, even my Blackberry?” The dying light lets me see that he is still there, too, with his filthy face, his blood stained shirt, the small,...
by Anjie Kokan | Sep 8, 2012 | Magazine Article
Down at the Pizza Factory you can get a mini pizza for a buck plus a quarter for each topping. Bonnie and I are now old enough to walk to town, pay our own way with baby-sitting cash. Perched at a front table, we watch other kids strut past in high-top Nikes or...
by Maryann Hurtt | Sep 8, 2012 | Magazine Article
I sit at her table and eat ground cherries she peels their lantern paper skin makes little stacks of pale orange balls She’s almost ninety years old her skin is translucent like the tiny fruits she carefully opens for me If I listen long enough I will know what...
by Mark Kliewer | Sep 8, 2012 | Magazine Article
In the parking lot after Romeo and Juliet have killed themselves for love, after the Capulets and Montagues have renounced enmity, we sit stunned in our cars by a greatness of love and loss and traffic before us, cars star-crossed and gridlocked, all angling for the...
