Genre: Poetry

Jealousy

Issue 2 | Winter 2018 |

    A paring knife sharp enough to slit a finger slips under the grass-green peel and glides without tugging in a slick spiral, exposing a sliver of flesh with each turn, revealing as it slides a naked white orb and a lithe snakeskin coiled from what was once a solid shining thing: both now …

The Mother’s Image

Issue 2 | Winter 2018 |

  After Anne Sexton I am 38 this February. You are tall, in your 11th year. In the dresser mirror, we pose like mannequins, our plastic smiles carry the hidden fear. With sheer force, we peer and grin, speak with blinks and nods—know that this too shall pass. You’ll fly. I’ll go low—too low. Three …

Death in Camp Charchabouk, Beirut

Issue 2 | Winter 2018 |

    On the wet sidewalk, inside a television cardboard box, he cuddled with his dying rat. The rain soaked the flapping lid; the roof sagged. He removed his only shoe, a shrunken left, and forced the limp rodent inside it. The tail managed to pass through an eyelet of his wrinkled wingtip and stayed …

Caliche

Issue 2 | Winter 2018 |

    It was the story in that part of Texas. Her story now. It followed both of them, the whitish dirt. A powder, he said, that stuck. I saw runnels of crenelated dust. I had never walked in a desert. Never fucked in one. I drank a piss-warm Lone Star beer. Saved questions. Probably …

Typing Lesson

Issue 2 | Winter 2018 |

    The quick brown fox jumps over the lazy dog “All the letters in the alphabet are used,” Mom explains as she checks the printed results for clarity, spacing and alignment on each typewriter in the office supply section of the Salvation Army Thrift Store before buying hers. “It’s called a pangram, however the …

At the National Cemetery

Issue 2 | Winter 2018 |

    ending with a line adapted from Neruda A doe is still among the death-cradles. In dappling shyness, her fawn waits in the brush. If a little rain steeples its fingers, if dusk approaches and flanks us from the east, maybe the long leaf pines will indulge their green sorrows. All the rows are …

Before You Stepped on the IED

Issue 2 | Winter 2018 |

    Mama gave you coins from the mayonnaise jar and sent you to the bakery. She said, “Avoid Avo the thief at all cost. He’ll take your bread money and give you a stolen pack of cigarettes.” You took the shortcuts: the opium alley, the slaughter house, the pulverized railroad track, the gamblers’ garage. …