Summer Slow - John Grey
There's enough Summer here
for a boy to play until
he can no longer see his hands.
Upstairs - R. A. Allen
What was that noise down in the kitchen?
The visitation of a memory?
Farty Arty and the Visitor - Theo Fenraven
Sometimes I thought I was rotting from the inside out.
A Triangular-Shaped Laser-Hole Leg Injury: Jesse Long - Clay Thistleton
little silhouettes
in Jesse’s ___________
small beings that are not
there
A Thousand Light Years Away - Ann Christine Tabaka
There are no answers beyond
what or why, nothing to ascertain.
When I Ran From Nothing - Cheryl Skory Suma
We are familiar, these shadows of the past and I.
Father and Son - Tim Payne
Out past the castaway skeletons
of train tracks and chicken farms,
my father and I cut through the drifts,
No Respecter of Lines - Laura Maffei
Dr. Giannini never says no to anyone, which is why his waiting room is always packed and noisy.
Daughter: Hearld of the Earth - A.J.M. Aldrian
My ligaments of rot rose forth from the muck
eager and hungry, sticking
to the oozing Earth.
The paths of the great lovers cross at Victoria station - Dan Brotzel
Really, what were the chances?
First Frost - Chris Dungey
A plain stick match
scratches its sulfur contrail
across the iron griddle
of an enameled wood-stove.
